Not much of
a patriot
I suffer lots
of hatriot
When citizen
buddies
Come home bloodied
From nights
in trenches
Crowded as benches
The first
day of spring
When all the
birds sing
About love’s
positioning,
Pro-life conditioning.
Leave
me sooner outside
A stray that
can’t abide
Begging for treats or tricks.
I'll fetch, then shit the sticks.
No comments:
Post a Comment