this is too urbane for me
these glimmering, polished fantasies
with images and memories
of what it was like to be real.
my nose has grown too long
with all the lies that i have told.
i'm afraid these concrete-walls
are closing in and i'm about to fold
in paper halves
or break in plastic twos.
or shatter in glass pieces
or splinter in fragments of wood.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
this is too urbane for me
these glimmering, polished fantasies
with images and memories
of what it was like to be real.
my nose has grown too long
with all the lies that i have told.
i'm afraid these concrete-walls
are closing in and i'm about to fold
in paper halves
or break in plastic twos.
or shatter in glass pieces
or splinter in fragments of wood.
