City spring
City spring's
Bin lorries, bung-full,
Vanish in four-stroke smog,
Leaving just their nothings behind.
Consenting adults next door (not again).
Their sweet nothings entwine in vain.
Missed strokes smoked away,
Their tongues are held
In shamed silence.
City spring.
Bin lorries, bung-full,
Vanish in four-stroke smog,
Leaving just their nothings behind.
Consenting adults next door (not again).
Their sweet nothings entwine in vain.
Missed strokes smoked away,
Their tongues are held
In shamed silence.
City spring.
posted by Brindle | 5:10 PM
1 Comments:
This is a fantastic poem, Brindle, and deserves a wider audience. Let's make a poetry podcast of your stuff, with sound effects??
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