"tidal" she shouted
"tidal" she shoutedhigh above the breaking sea
"I am the still one
rolling of a tin drum
in an eastern tomorrow"
the selection was haphazard
the followers were all flea-bitten
city cores came and went
with the decay of more days
daring the one to cease
"and then you die"
she was above me now
bending turrets in a basket fashion
aiming for the closed asylum
with a new interpretation
---
(page 133 - unpublished ms - May 2 2018)
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2018-05-09 at 10:34
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by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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