small poems & small plates
Call off the hounds you've got runninground the enclosures of the pastAnyway the holes are fallingand the parasols open in the sweaty airit's the farmyard that never stole my heartplease little creature run for cover
Call off the hounds you've got running
ReplyDeleteround the enclosures of the past
Anyway the holes are falling
and the parasols open in the sweaty air
it's the farmyard that never stole my heart
please little creature run for cover