What is here
When here is now?
When sweat is on the brow
Hiding neath the show
Of laming goats and horses
Past engines speaking
So, walking with hands
And legs held high
My head in the bag
Along with the tricks
To pass the time
Meandering mouths
And tulip lips
Eyes on the floor
Dusty and dirty
Fingers gone,
Gone to party
With the deck of cards
Under the bed
And the tongue
Drowns in malt
Halt the moon
Halt the sun
Halt the river
Halt the clouds
Halt the day
Halt the night
YOU ARE READING
Labyrinth
PoetryPoems I made during quarantine. A poem compilation about eating, sleeping and other things. I don't know what I have created. Read at your own risk.
