We are still
under the sky,
In the guest room;
Beast and cryptic.
Everything crawls.
A car flings us.
I see one peeling
The middle east.
Down there, it’s still
Exotic; an open sore,
With a mule-cart
Full of gold.
We are still
under the sky,
In the guest room;
Beast and cryptic.
Everything crawls.
A car flings us.
I see one peeling
The middle east.
Down there, it’s still
Exotic; an open sore,
With a mule-cart
Full of gold.
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Thanks Dean !
I like very much: an open sore with a mule cart full of gold…!