These blowballs are weak. While sneezing,
they run out of darts and aims at…
for wind’s getting old. He’s busy
with branch-shaking trees at sunset.
A crawlspace, I built – perception,
but crawling is good for nothing.
What used to be "rules" – exception,
so blooming is short, but classy.
To thrive – the spirit of passion
to come – to throw darts and crashes…
While blowballs lose cheeks in splashes ,
I’m hoarding my minds in dashes.
January 5, 2007
Iouri Lazirko
Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko
Hoarding my minds
© Copyright: Юрий Лазирко, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107052301931
Свидетельство о публикации №107052301931
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