Litkicks Message Board Archive

try this one

Posted to Action Poetry

and all the world with it's mamograph gels
just crawls up the river to die
and all is spelled in this mamograph wolrd
in language that talks of a pie
and all this meld in the sattelite world
makes afces at suns newborn rays
for darkness it sees is high on it's knees
as bhikkus wake open to pray