"roundworm" poems
As I walk the dog I think of you
He stops and sniffs
And scratches the breast of our Mother Earth
As he hunkers over, my heart hunkers down
And I think of what was.
Spiral, brown, a roundworm reaches for the sun
This is my heart now
You b*tch.
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 11:56 AM UTC