Took the picture last night. Wrote the poem less than eight hours ago. At least I didn't wait till daylight.
Not Paranoid
They really are
after you
to get back
to the house
and die
at last.
To be sure,
the microwave
in the street
is a bomb,
The red light
targets you.
Keep moving
in swerves.
You might
make it back
just as
they're asleep
They'll forget
till next Sunday.
Not Paranoid
They really are
after you
to get back
to the house
and die
at last.
To be sure,
the microwave
in the street
is a bomb,
The red light
targets you.
Keep moving
in swerves.
You might
make it back
just as
they're asleep
They'll forget
till next Sunday.
1 comment:
Well done.
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