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max-alvarezPoems
There's a black Hair-pinned sliver AKA velvet liver Lying under the bed Catty-cornered Adjacent to where my eyes wed As I count the primes I can't help but roll my eyes And tears stream down my face. The strigiforme released the worm From the pebble teeth lodged in its beak. Double the space from One and three. The song changed, Her morning sickness spoke Fold our lives in leaves, The time we have is brief. She came from under the bed To blame I shook my head and said I did not eject. I was fake She was fake The bed was fake The owl, Melted plastic Left in the sun's wake, Pacific rays, bleak and weak Melding homes. This makes no sense.
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Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
Newspaper And Networking
There's a black Hair-pinned sliver AKA velvet liver Lying under the bed Catty-cornered Adjacent to where my eyes wed As I count the primes I can't help but roll my eyes And tears stream down my face. The strigiforme released the worm From the pebble teeth lodged in its beak. Double the space from One and three. The song changed, Her morning sickness spoke Fold our lives in leaves, The time we have is brief. She came from under the bed To blame I shook my head and said I did not eject. I was fake She was fake The bed was fake The owl, Melted plastic Left in the sun's wake, Pacific rays, bleak and weak Melding homes. This makes no sense.
Sweet, sweet irreverent babble.
max-alvarez
Written by
max-alvarez
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
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