pillow fort
we set up our tent
piece of homemade sky
blocking out the stickybeak sun
that peered over the fence.
Camouflage against the clover wolves
was barely afforded
even here in the greener grass
they came sniffing
buzzed the door at the crack of dawn
hungry for new blood
and neighbourly affection.
We sent them on their way
with a cordial of dew
that they could have gotten anywhere
and they knew that.
The stick that we had chained out the front
was not terribly effective
the security branch had told us that it would bark;
it was only later that we twigged
at least we know it'll stick around.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Songs of Suburbia
PoesíaPoems vaguely related to the suburban/urban experience. Mostly written in the early hours of the morning when I should be studying, but I hope you enjoy! (also, the earlier ones are from a while ago - the quality gets better later on I hope :P) ©...
