Down low and dirty,
Through a sea of stinking mud.
Bot flies and mags, chewing and chiving –
Stinking and contriving through the
Grease-fed snake gas-house.
Moon shuttle ride to the retinal room.
Published by Vincent
Ellie: By the way, what's your name?
Peter: What's that?
Ellie: Who are you?
Peter: Who me? [smiling] I'm the whippoorwill that cries in the night. I'm the soft morning breeze that caresses your lovely face.
View all posts by Vincent