Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
I offer my shoulder to the mouth of little baby angel-bait.  my wife is touching up the secret room we’ve rented for a reptile to display its sadness.  I am worried my son sees no point in knowing whether or not a slug heavy enough to snap a mousetrap has died.  to be clear, a sound twice as long as my ears made its way to god in the photo god is using.
Barton D Smock
Written by
Barton D Smock  48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)   
238
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems