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it was spring on the prairie
it was formed from a praire bone
dressed in drag and was painted with soft gloss
too long and hard for the dusty pasture,
spring sky reminds me
spring mud gives the bones a crawling odour,
that treads the crusty brown earth,
reminds me that all is rotting
the moist tissues of prairie skin
the putrescence that spoils a boy
opens his anus to the beautiful world
and lies unsatisfied upon the earth.
just as always your style never changes, amazing how time never changes a writer.hope lifes going great for you.it's been a while, do you remeber me. if you do read some of my work.
a very restless poem for spring, darling, i can smell it.