To the men
who run around trees
with their intestines unravelling:
round and round he chases himself
leaving a trail of himself
round and round he chases himself
at every turn he catches himself
large intestines
small intestines
giddy giddy bout
your stomachs hanging out
guts guts
guts and glory
forever and ever
abdomen
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment