BT (01/11/82 - 01/11/2012 / Lebanon)

The Crow Has Fled

The dream fades away as I try to tattoo it on my left,
try to remember the smoking and smoking
after swearing never to again,
the music, the drunken squads,
the cell phones that never rang;

Mockery mockery,
the bird of mockery is falling in flames inside the tree,
the cows are fat and the rats are that,
twirl around your bedroom drapes like a snake in heat
because the dream just died
and your skin is beat.

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 1

Other poems of TREMOZ (55)

Comments (1)

Some striking animal images here. I don't know what 'the rats are that' means, but it's certainly unusual.