Nevermind, you are chained to some rotting wood,
one hand will do.
You don't know mom wears prison-issue reddish glasses,
neither do the men.
She tried jumping off the Howrah Bridge to end the mess,
the pottage, Esau, the hall.
Actually I'm off track, I didn't mean any of those things,
not even one.
I meant to say; they all sit how they make their money,
knees to shoulder, manus to kardia.
Monday, April 27, 2009
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