chris bowen, a.k.a to wit Poems

i broke a religious code when i said i dont know

my family doesnt want me anymore even though they dont go to church
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pose and the kids know

write a song for money, and the girls say nomore honey
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roses are red

the simple flowers are dead
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club licks bounce off walls
club chicks, strut through malls
im feelin the effect
we are through and you aint left yet
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i see.the way they move.breath.
disease.pestilane
best one yet
vessel
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disregard.far and away the best
my perfect chest
my perfect vessel
oh my god
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beuregard.a man of many voices, unexcellent choices
sauces voices
my mother noises out in the yard
i seen the shard, it was hard
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hear the grumble men?
its the ground.the sound deafining.left wing nature
send the bait your in
let us join in.us god people
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over at ol broken ridge
i did some things
i was in a war
at ol broken ridge
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sill be sapple, bought an apple
waffle house and blouse the fourty ounce
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