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Rochelle Roberts Mar 2016
We move in strange ways
Our minds have gone insane
Dark haunting jerks of
Misrepresentation clinging grotesquely
To our fragile bones.
We live in fear, wonder slipping from
Empty eyes, crying in an
Echoing silence, still moving
In rituals. Lies whispered between
Truthful teeth, seeping deceit as we
Lie in wakeful drunkenness
Absorbing the black
Outside our window.
N Jul 2016
I'd say go to hell
but I'll be there so
go to heaven
instead.
---
Still so mad but there's nothing I can do.
---
whoosh a rabbit hop these tails and there
arose those ears only to avow each step
through the freshly cut grass ahead

with just their paths to *** then nibbling

with raps round afar that supplely dug afield but prose ajar
this piedmont in a poetic depth just to find another hole
and lined with attaché won this most harrowing thought
of yesterday's eclipse that a shriek of ebriosity
incandescently taught a caper night of fun

— The End —