Saturday, November 27, 2010

Little April Showers

hey little fawn
what happened to your mom
poignant right at her
face the
rain rain
the thrill of sirens
thrown
head back
then she is missing
part of her missing
always i aim but all ways
missing
some big bucks
hot to trot
cold and wet
gutted
rot
dismantled
dismount
holed
carcass
old
no more left
left to fest
fester in the cold
white tail time as old
song as rhyme
brutal
beliel beast

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