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Geno Cattouse
Poems
Sep 2013
The piper plays tin horn
jarring.no melody.
Scarring.No reverie
Rotund.Not svelt.
Verbose.not soothing.
Coarse. Not felt
Come. A card has been delt. A farthing is due.
Pound of flesh or two.
Come.skip to his leu.a tortuous dirge.
Come to the very end of days.
Come children, no turn to return to. My child.
A lemming's trance . Dutifull ant by rote. Chant-like.
Forward to the witches castle. Then stumble.to the horizon
To the witche's castle.
To scatter there.Fodder held ******* to the wayward wind.
Hubris comes calling. Now falling
To forever or never.... forever.
Written by
Geno Cattouse
california
(california)
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