Wednesday, February 17, 2016
I Drove In
I drove in bee hives like the wasps,
My acts were supplicated by the people
Who burdened a little tarnished gold.
This science and money was a radiation,
For you the desired drug, the designer one.
In this sense a part of me wavered like harm,
For the moment a spread bullet made no excuse.
Holed up, brows already, we were even viruses,
There was no excuse for the personalised surgery.
For ugliness these days was a happy same time,
I drove in bee hives, with the chariots,
As the sun delivered its shine on the road.
We have got the science and the money,
Little pockets were better out of the way.
Topic(s) of this poem: adventure