You Don't Tell Me...A Poem by CrowleyHell yeah...
Folded like the crease in gangland Chinos Your mind dips lower than an election year politicians virtues Creating a halo around the campsite shitter Convincing everyone that it smells like money and sex Pop the truth An ugly blister French kissing black lips,
the reapers' sister Pull the lie Expose the muscle Running the most
elaborate hustle You choose what you write..... Mending the fence when the course gets too heavy Drinking your coffee from old poets cups, cowboy style And spitting out volumes that fall on sensitive ears Riding shotgun in the onyx beast, you weaping Chivas Cap the punk Wear his hat sideways Etching out grooves on
life's shadowed highways Pinch the ducket Grating the raw nerve Throwing the masses a
down and out curve You don't tell me, I tell you..... © 2018 CrowleyAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on July 19, 2018 Last Updated on July 19, 2018 |

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