DG (9/19/1963 / )

Pilote 2

PILOTE, with two blazing pistols, and
a stiff drink called, politics, and
judas, hanging from a tree, forgive me
lord he cries, for it was the devel,
not me...and darkness fell on this
place, like the tears from the clouds,
and the blood from a lamb.

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Comments (1)

fellow poets, this was in one of my dreams, ................