Untitled Poem by Michael Ó Domhnaill
Untitled
Prodigal interests don't get
vested about in my throat.
They only muddy themselves
in a stagger, at my foot.
Cleave the cloven hooves;
bore them about in satyrical sodomy.
They are entwined and each glowing
solitary, every air of ours.
Friday, March 12, 2021
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4/16/2024 1:39:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
