Sideshow

 

I roll away on the misty fog of pain

And lie upon the black asphalt.

It is not hot, or at least I don't feel it.

I reach my hand out lazily towards you--

You are so far above me, and far away too

I'm right in the middle of one of those

Broken yellow lines

And when the steamroller comes along

I won't even feel it

 

--fleur   25.vi.80

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Backgrounds from Creations by Dawn

 

 

Copyright 1980-2008 Joanna M. Phillips