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scott-howardPoems
Lips and finger tips send hips on trips and some sink ships. My ship slips and trickles down a rabbit's hole I thought you were a queen. Red cup of liquid gold with dreams about caterpillars choking on smokestacks and fungi. “Who are you?” Even the Mad Hatter would call that fiction -------------------------------------------- Those blender-chipped lips I kissed, that left welts on my skin. Those Cheshire choppers that could **** a cat. You were no queen, you had a heart of black You twiddle-dumb **** with wonderlust thighs. Drunken eyes and heavy lids that bid on empty shot glasses. This ship has done sailed. Jabberwocky babies shoot out of your bandersnatch “Off with their ******* heads”
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Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
Wonderlust
Lips and finger tips send hips on trips and some sink ships. My ship slips and trickles down a rabbit's hole I thought you were a queen. Red cup of liquid gold with dreams about caterpillars choking on smokestacks and fungi. “Who are you?” Even the Mad Hatter would call that fiction -------------------------------------------- Those blender-chipped lips I kissed, that left welts on my skin. Those Cheshire choppers that could **** a cat. You were no queen, you had a heart of black You twiddle-dumb **** with wonderlust thighs. Drunken eyes and heavy lids that bid on empty shot glasses. This ship has done sailed. Jabberwocky babies shoot out of your bandersnatch “Off with their ******* heads”
scott-howard
Written by
scott-howard
American
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
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