Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Ross Vassilev- A Poem


there's the sun
the horrible, horrible sun
barreling through my mind
raining down all its foul energy
bestowing it on the children
little shits running around
with their sickening innocence

there's the old ladies
who live and die next door
wrinkled old prunes
returning to the dust
from whence they came

the one good thing
is the flowers: lounging about
like naked women sitting around
with their legs spread open.

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