Industrial serpent slithers
slides along the sliding hill,
creeps along the creeping climb,
drags his heavy metric tons,
and seeps into my mind.
But I can taste my euphemism.
He blares his bleating horn
and blasts past the flashing lights,
red like his lover's eyes
on dry desert nights.
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The Back of My Mind (Poetry)
PoesieI like to write fiction, but I love to write poetry. Here is a collection of some of my favorite pieces.
