of the bland

of the bland

A Poem by circle
"

found poem

"


there was a grave
full of earth worms
scraping the
blackness
with their booty.
this is where
i wonkily
tripped risible
toast to loud
drunken
violence
from scrote to minge
a touch of hairy
swine, milky toss
jumping in cracks







i am clammy and sighing
the way a chucklehead
slides inside herself-then
metatherianises.
it is the pouch
of sentience and hole
 the sand
in your pants
chapping the thunder of my thigh
i fan
near festive shores
unspoken screams
brothers lost in
each brother







in a room of scones
and marmite deeds
where your cars
wheel like moans on the
long drapes, as unquenchable
fountains and dogs
i bind your feet
around me
push my a*s to
poetry in mingled
showmen
and hope they
fly
with my belief
in shoes


© 2014 circle


Author's Note

circle
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Excellent.
Was surprised by the shoes

Posted 11 Years Ago



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Added on July 28, 2014
Last Updated on July 28, 2014

Author

circle
circle

Australia



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