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POETRY

TRIGGERS

His every sight triggers a magical goldsmith Who makes a mental pickaxe and shovel Which exhumes dead hurts Leaving the best parts buried II How he caught a young flower And stepped on the fresh he plucked in young How he acted like an ostrich And flew on two legs is still a mystery III […]

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Uncategorized

LOSING THE HOUSE OF GOLD

I said I needed you not I said you were not that hot I said I wouldn’t you bought Even if you were a golden pot   I said you were not important I said I needed no accountant I said you were just an infant That needed to learn like the little ant   […]