My Brother Bought a Guitar
The clueless folksinger looks not
Unlike a dove whose wings are fine
Divine cutlery, soft and feathered.
I have never seen a folk singer
As ugly as this, who does not exist
Whose song is the constant fluttering
Of his impossible, stainless steel wings.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment