Friday, July 11, 2014

poemS of the day 07.11.14

Four Haiku

his head buried
in her womb
she checks her phone, expectant

nothing but bad poems
and the lack of good
subway graffiti to read

orange-red apartment wall
dusted yellow from
a fistful of my knuckles

corn syrup children
smacking glass doors
at high noon

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