fit

by March 16, 2015 0 comments

fit of idle bout of trifle doubt:

Dizzy blows
“Closer”
“Closer”
“Soul Kiss” “High on a cloud”…

ears perambulate
a long way
plodding stirs of stout tangs…

what kind of condolence adjourned to get an everlasting poke?

editors note:

Something’s burning here more than my ears; it’s the pull of the poke. – mh

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