Jon Doe


Many Farms - Poem by Jon Doe

Not ever, not ever more than
now: - shift bottles!


Act. II
Spoken: Be quiet! (Seize)
Whatever you do, scurry!
leave no room
of background step,
And cry out, cry out!
-the still-life, my goodness-
Then leave with out a sound.
Do not struggle.
Speaks: biding dwells,
For once petted,
and twice scattering to sand,
my dread needs quenching lust (press)
Please my regards!
My music.
Said: fin! I see to the worlds.
As your eyes. Credits.
(Comment on this)


Comments about Many Farms by Jon Doe

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Monday, August 30, 2010



[Report Error]