god I wish you'd just listen to yourself (Remove filter)
tide pod (04/25/2020)
beneath the crushing boots of time
the smoothed teeth of chattering maws
insisting that a loud pulpit is best
in spite of souring bedrock
it is your sun-picked bones
my sons shall find
like petrified feather splines :
mere pinpricks and
pocket sized nothings
rattling against the rocks
in riverbeds
the echo and wash of your misfortunes.
and your tragedy will be writ
with...
Saturday 25th April 2020 2:10 pm
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