a poem
little white worms
or maybe they’re snakes
come out of my nose when i squeeze it
an apple tree screams
and blocks off the streams
whenever i happen to sneeze it
hatchet, hatchet, sold to me at walmart
swing, cut clean, right through that bad part
and make sad any who sees it
-JR, last living thing in his world of bees
-
Floris Leenders
10 hours, 44 minutes later
-
JR
7 years, 1 month later
What the fuck?
make a few new categories..