My Hands Ulcerous Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR
My Hands Ulcerous
Rating: ★5.0
Great festive day, all well dressed, ornamented.
Only the words are pell-mell;
With great eclat going to put them in order,
felt i'm not so artful
How shall I arrange?
The tusk beyond the border.
My hands ulcerous,
Skinny greedy fingers anointed with dirty mud
Whenever I pointed out drop blooming buds.
Saturday, June 25, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poems
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4/23/2024 11:17:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
