Poems of Sandy Player
|3.||Doctor's Smoke Jar||2/1/2013|
|4.||Down the Drain||2/25/2013|
|7.||In The Graves||2/14/2013|
|8.||Left Alone for Another Lifetime||4/20/2013|
|9.||Long Sable Torch||2/22/2013|
|15.||The Sheep Gang||2/1/2013|
|16.||The Waiting Room's Fish Tank||4/13/2013|
The Sheep Gang
Miles away from where you live in your sky-searching city
There's a large brown hill also wearing clouds.
Like the condemned man's blindfold.
Nothing actually grows on this rock-garbed hill,
The grass that you have in your parks doesn't even rise here.
Those sickened green blades drooped and cut the ground years ago.