POEM

August 5, 2009

The Boll Weevil’s Lament

or

The Rotten Stranger


I sighed and thought and sighed and thought and sighed and thought some more

A dream of you came creeping, sliding back across the floor

I looked into my mind again and knew that you were dead

I stuck the gray gun to my ear and blasted off my head

Tra la

And blasted off my head

Leave a Reply