pointless garb and saw-toothed fashion she bled silk for days after and fooled them all with a knife she pulled strands from the smog and used the CN tower as a needle to stitch together the last few fragments of the last few days she reconciled and reviled that certain tang of forgiveness, tough to accept, like rabies shots or that her lover is gay or that they all revolved around her sun beasts, she said the lot of them splendid beasts
I wasn't sure what this was about but I enjoyed it... she bled sik... pulled strands from the smog.... and that final stanza on beasts... splendid beasts, splendid poem. thanks for sharing.
i'm glad you liked this, vetty...i'm not too sure what it's about, either...but i wrote it drinking beer in a little shithole bar in toronto, trading stories with crackheads and hookers...a good afternoon all around...thanks again for reading, i appreciate your comments
