papers/lighter/text

crumbled and rolled

rhymes with ought 06/22/2009

Filed under: readable — paperslightertext @ 11:38 pm

chasing my tail
on my bike in the lot
empty cigarette pack
disposes of the hot
chattel, pocketed,
plotted by the fraught
mistress (the one in pot.)
don’t ask me where i bought
the goodies that i’ve brought
close your eyes boy
accept the purple… just
turn your head and cough.

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