Saturday, January 7, 2023

Sort of a Sonnet for a Saturday

The snare drum sitting on the dirty floor

the trumpet and the temptress counting knees

the kick drum pedal and the glory bang

the register for cash it clangs to thee

clinging on the sheep we cloned for sleep

to count them once before we start to weep

my shattered glass an hour two or more

tick ticking until the last 




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Human Hands

Praise the truth hold it up like Simba  but keep in mind it might be deep in your heart unable to be touched by human hands