dream msg # 5
there are a hundred people walking in me always
through the turnstile onto the platform
just loitering there like a draft of crows
hooked by unfelt wind in winter. some carry
the wall street journal tucked under their arms
there are a hundred people walking in me always
through the turnstile onto the platform
just loitering there like a draft of crows
hooked by unfelt wind in winter. some carry
the wall street journal tucked under their arms
Writer, poet, graduate student, freelancer, teacher, and parent. Enthusiast of the weird. Dark sense of humor.