PUT ME IN COACH
We had come to the end of my legs
Any further and you'd have been
at the foot of the bed where the blood
was that had fallen from the hammer
that was swinging from the end of my
arm or hand as it were. I call it my five
legged mini me. No head or eyes or brain
to dream with or figure out how to get to
Connecticut without leaving a paper trail
or use a credit card, because the
police would spot that for sure.
Just a palm and five feetless fingers
1 comment:
Well if you find your way to CT at least grab some leg-warmers, it still gets chilly at night ;)
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