The Flood Planes Of Airplanes. Poem by Robert Rorabeck
The Flood Planes Of Airplanes.
Scarred without the bobby pens
And without a pool, listening to the
Sirens in the afternoon;
And looking at my dog;
And now my after all of this,
And all done underneath all of the trespassing
And the midgets in their canals;
They are teaching me in high school
And underneath the
Flood planes or airplanes-
So- think of me
Anyways.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
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5/5/2024 7:24:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice and simple, I like