The clock no longer moves backwards
The clock no longer stops ticking at all
The clock no longer exists
And we question its previous existence
I no longer think backwards
I no longer stop my sensations’ flow
I no longer exist
Except in the realm of your reality
You no longer dream backwards
You no longer stop denying your brain’s fixation
You no longer exist
Outside the span of both my arms
"pig correspondence", A New Collection of Poems
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Here at Lulu our Nickel Hole Press have just published *pig correspondence*,
a book of poems from a few years ago. This will be on Amazon in a few
weeks. ...
3 years ago
2 comments:
HE must be a damn lucky guy!! Having almost all your talent revolving around him! I hope he knows about it, and at least appreciate it! Fuck!!! this is pissing me off!
I think the first stanza alone could be an awesome poem in its own right.
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