looking for noon
in your dark hours
your greedy sleep
ruby in mire
oblivion sparks
you chase the terror
the error trying to
pierce the secret
the sea pearl
you creep and fly
french version in" vivre libre, cherche midi "
YOU ARE READING
trips
Poetrytalking about trips don't trip don't move don't groove sitting in street poverty such cross nailing you down in the tomb of lost paradise eating at your brain your eyes your infinite holes piercing the guts of well-fed bourgeoisie never gave you...
