connie and blyde (Remove filter)
First Laugh, Last Laugh
let's run away together
living in the road and on the riot.
It's too late for me anyway,
I'll be the plane, you be the pilot.
Let's crash into all the fucking buildings you want,
write 'em all off as inside jobs
keep our blood hot as white, smart savants
turned streetwise by irons of the same color.
Blackwater?
I was raised in a similar institution.
Brackish, bred for war doctrine
...
Sunday 5th April 2015 1:56 am
Recent Comments
Philip Stevens on This Imaginary Life-Part 3 (Nature)
3 hours ago
Nigel Astell on June 2025 Collage Poem: I Watched the Trains Come, I Watched the Trains Go
10 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
15 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
1 day ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
1 day ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago