Rating: 2.9
Us all sore cement was we.
Not warmed then with glares. Not glutting mush
under that pole the lightning's tied to.
No farrow-shit in milk to make us randy.
Us back in cool god-shit. We ate crisp.
We nosed up good rank in the tunnelled bush.
Us all fuckers then. And Big, huh? Tusked
the balls-biting dog and gutsed him wet.
Us shoved down the soft cement of rivers.
Us snored the earth hollow, filled farrow, grunted.
Never stopped growing. We sloughed, we soughed
and balked no weird till the high ridgebacks was us
with weight-buried hooves. Or bristly, with milk.
Us never knowed like slitting nor hose-biff then.
Nor the terrible sheet-cutting screams up ahead.
The burnt water kicking. This gone-already feeling
here in no place with our heads on upside down.
Monday, January 13, 2003
Jono Snips 26 May 2019
Cows are better. Change my mind.
1 0 Reply
lexi nevins 22 May 2019
this is fheykyriyhiruii n hykfuf
0 1 Reply
pepa pig 20 May 2019
bruh bruh BRRUUUUUUUUHHH bruh
1 0 Reply
peppa pig 20 May 2019
Oi you hurt anymore of my people I'll do you in bruv. you got it bruv.
1 0 Reply
Peppa Pig 20 May 2019
I'll you up you talk about pigs again mate.
1 0 Reply
wowwww 13 September 2018
1 2 Reply
Briony Nicholls 11 July 2015
This must be a brilliant poem because I don't understand a single word of it! All I know is that it's set in the Australian bush and there is great commotion in it.
1 4 Reply

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