Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

(1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

A Drop Of Blood


Is just a drip
from where
it comes
it matters
the blood not to some!

We no longer
can tell with eyes
made of glass.

when we pass
them by
do they bleed?

Multiply all sides
walks where you drive.
is the need!

Gallons by the barrel
I cannot
but you can replenish.

These side walks
you know
the streets that
have names.


The wells that
will one day
run dry.

Submitted: Saturday, June 22, 2013
Edited: Friday, July 26, 2013

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