LP (6th March 1954 / London, England)


Anywhere.Evening rain.

Snakes cross the road,
that is no longer an obvious place,
it cracks like old toffee.

Lost souls in nightgowns and slippers
foam behind wire,
a dark tide bids

then waits of the gallery of heads,
blue eyes devoid of doubt.

A world of small signs

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Comments (1)

Lost souls in nightgowns and slippers. Thanks for sharing.