Tuesday, January 6, 2009

OBVERSE by g vance

after Tailings by J Wonham


Gold is the chapel
its doors, change

wrinkled behind the world-like gutter
the sun sifts through moneyfall

I fly my bed to the dawn of night,
cling to no polluted home



^^^^
Posted by at
Labels:

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)