Spending Hte Night At Linda's House Poem by Charlotte Ballard
Spending Hte Night At Linda's House
The orange slick of blood
Sounded fat and warm
As it trickled down soft
Spreading wide in a
Brazen cheer.
The sound of gunfire slipped
Under the door like a mouse
Flipped over and pushed
Squalling, shivering green
Fear flecks into my food.
Saturday, June 3, 2006
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5/13/2024 1:45:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
