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| I wrote this poem at P.E.P. in the 8th grade. |
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The redness gone. The goneness dead. The deadness gone. The lightless spread. A beetle's head. The head gone. The beetle long. The longness two. Two and two and two along. Bought the song. Ate the words. Killed the birds. The birds of song. Then watched a movie by Cheech and Chong. The movie on. The words in the next room. The sound of the words. Made the mark of angerless violence. What is that supposed to mean? The milk is green. At its best, I suppose, It makes peace With all your foes. Your realtor is drowning....so? What's a realtor? Someone real? Someone drowning? Full of peeling, Full of bullets, Full of numbers, Are they dead? Full of animals. Are they fed? |
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