there's too much blame to be passed around
I've got a headful
a hole full
a hot heaping
bowl full
yeah, wrath it runs over
it gobbles us up
there's so much regret
it could swallow us up
weepy wallow
in sin simple staining
the sheets
dust dirty dirt in the
layers beneath
'agh'! to my father
and 'You! ' to my mother
failure is fresh
freshly pressed
in the other
kill all the rats, keep them
hidden in closets
pied piper peddlers
of absolutional possets
give me an answer!
you! send you right down
i'm just a murderer
lounging around
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i agree, unfortunately. i ferociously, agree. the dark, fathomed underbelly. ever-present. and starving to be embraced. V, you make canny observances.