there is a spider in the corner of my room
she sings to me, when i fall asleep
she talks of cheetah and zebra
and god,
her voice has a dead accent,
older than the earth,
she listens to my tales of
modern art and horses,
i tell her of the swine out my window,
and the antelope nurturing grass,
and she tells me that she's proud
of how the world figured itself out,
and i'll cry to her, that
the whole world
is
falling
apart
and she says that she knows naught of
the world, but she
sees it through the eyes of a bard,
she says that everything is worth singing
even the ice flowers and the
starved white fur.
YOU ARE READING
an idiots guide to life; how to survive the badlands of wyoming
Poetrythe slightly deranged ramblings of a teenage trans guy living in wyoming there's no overarching theme but there sure is a lot of dogs, horses, and god(s) . i do not know what i am talking about 97% of the time mostly posted chronologically in order...
