Poem Hunter
LN ( / )


A young hook toothed man sat on the train with me
A joint hung from his thin salmon tail lips
Trash bag hair hung sweatily 'cross his forehead
With bits of ash kneaded through
His lazy skull smile makes even friends cringe
Watching the world through a video camera
He rebels against morose normality
Loving the rain
It's his way of fucking with the world
Shouts run across his fingers
And though his jacket covers but his feet
His true-hearted attempt
Is just a false-hearted truth

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