We are grotesque against the air
You grasp desirous rats against the sea
Zounds! The inspiration is done
Very florescent among the sky
I transform big women about the mist
Awaken, awaken! The evil must continue
Quite sensuous beneath the grave
We poke quaking toads in the mist
Alass! The feeling keeps going
open-eyed seeking
on the edge of the world
a broken promise
From what country
the sailor
take another road
and find road-signs
YOU ARE READING
Incoherent Poetry
PoetryPoetry that serves to clash tonally and ideally with the objective that a new tone, genre, or coherency (some semblance of sense at all) can be made from throwing different ideas together in a bizarre gathering of words.
