He waits.
Shadow cast down
upon a sea of asphalt,
shouldering the warmth of the shine;
he has bigger fish to fry.
Sol acts as his soapbox,
fingers spread out;
beeping spreads the word.
What's that, the machine's cogs groan.
I'll tell you, he says.
Agreeable, he is.
The cogs no longer groan.
He has their attention now.
//
It is the fourth year.
The cogs groan once again,
rusting with wear.
He waits.
Shadow clawing at the
asphalt;
shouldering the sting of the Sun,
the bigger fish are frying.
YOU ARE READING
the KNIFUETTE ANTHOLOGY!!!!! HECK YEAH
Randomhi chat!! i decided to make a thing where i can keep my favorite pieces in one place. stuff might change as i go through the revision process yo!! so yeah... erm....... stuff is in chronological order! dates will be in the chapter titles.. so yeah...
