Still They Lie Poem by King Happy
Still They Lie
The cable's out
the modem's fried
she's at work,
I have no gas
no one visits,
I don't point fingers
and there's nothing to do
but write.
But
The juice is loose,
there's nothing
but rind.
The cats are full,
the dogs asleep
with the hounds of hell
at war
I pace both rooms
but these words lie
still,
it's more
entertaining
then I ever
could be.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: writing
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5/4/2024 2:58:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
