#dung
Me in the rain now wry dusk nigh
and hail next awesome seed
even lightning is on the way
that plaza carry street too
where crumbs last an entire day
if rampart ring side their wing
with a pigeon in flight that dine here
then my rapport commence with dance
but a lesson left to chance
dawn in these throes of thunder
but wake incredible desire
and shake an incredulous mess
though my excess horizontal
with wind and sea ex aequo.
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 4:10 AM UTC
a refugee from Yale, and the stale stench
of old money, he took a job with the park service
where he maintained outhouses,
and got high in the cover of cottonwoods
this crap crew job gave him no
deferment from the draft, so he landed in Can Tho
he didn't clean outhouses there--little people did,
stirring his dreck in burning diesel for 75 cents a day
when his Huey was shot down in the
Mekong, only he and his door gunner survived
they hid, submerged in paddies until dark
hearing faint but ferocious voices of the VC
who never found them--and they made the
miracle mile back to base camp, covered in muck
that smelled like dung; a scent that stuck
with him in dreams, no matter how much he bathed
when he came home, he again labored
for the forest service, and asked for ********* duty
fearing if he lost the smell,
he would lose himself as well
.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 11:06 PM UTC
No means No you sick
Pile of useless, vile cow dung
Her poor ears have rung
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 9:04 PM UTC
Dung trampled upon
Though soft, boneless and painless
Cripples a good leg
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC