Aaron Hunter Poems

Every new dawn is a false dawn, every day a home defeat
The sea of dejection is washing over his street
He used to do it well but he’s long since lost the knack
He’s looking in the mirror, but who’s looking back?
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An indescribable feeling, swirling on top of a mountain in the drozzles of ultra humanity
Relax in the gutter, everything calms out goodly, I speak slow but soft in the midst of these surrrealisties
Drafty, drowsy look at me now, I’m crading, I will win ‘em all! !
I am one, my body crifting. I love this feeling above all else.
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