CROPDUSTING,
squat blocks,
rusty nails,
and judas
laughing, at the
face of GOD.
NEON lights,
jukeboxs on,
nervous wisdom,
from the devil
himself,
WHISTLE blows,
angels come,
a slap on the
back, and your on
your own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You are on your own...BUT not alone! Nice write, David! I sense a desire for companionship in this for some reason. L