Monday, November 4, 2013

poem || Jeff Harrison

Round Slumber

bildungsroman: live it up, execrable youth
till dewy lies fly from the foam
stars ring around red hollow
negligence from an old dove, leaves walk yes

sweet their thick down run repose, unaware get them rain
presto bed that own bosom is the must
suggested sleep the only pine-wood of two saws there
Round Slumber, what papers their nigh by day? Round Slumber,
may all your noise stand combing the woodland shoulders north

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