The Bad Joke gene
This was your place of birth. This daytime place
Black was the without eye, black the within tongue
Rocks, Moss, stonecrop, iron
The clouds cast moving shadows on the land
Screaming for blood, crusts, anything
The woman in the kitchen making tea
Are you prepared for what the night may bring?
See the life stab through, a dream flash
The game is finished when he plays his ace.
He tried a step, then a step, then a step
Turn out the light and I'll explain
How strange it is to have a loveless heart
Herded mountains, steaming
The word inside the word, unspoken
Kick up the fire, let the flames break loose
The bullet oozes from the gun
To be eaten, to be divided, to be drunk
After knowledge you expect forgiveness?
Don't talk to me of love, I've had an earful
Yellow smoke creeping to these windows
A soft October night
Full of high sentences but a bit obtuse
Have the memories rearrange to fit the mood
The Town Clock. Drunk in Residence, Creative Writing Class
It hurts
Laughter tinkles among the teacups
Strode across the hills and smote them
He was much possessed by death, but hearty for all that
It's something you say at your peril
Friday, 14 September 2007
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