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"consistenzy" poems
The grass isnt greener on the otherside if your in arizona. You have to look at the pebbles, And hope that in this dessert forrest, A piece of your old home is burried under a cactus. The rocks getnhot, So hot your face burns when you kick the soil. Whats good for anything worth knowing That the cats made a home. On your bed Hangs a shirt, a lite blue shirt. It gets briter and briter every time you leave it by the window. When the door opens you know there is consistenzy down here. But I miss reading books by a fire. The fire I xould burn my worst poems in.
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Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
Arizona (for a friend)