Saturday, December 27, 2008

Empty Rooms

The Wandering Rocks 284

Shout the organ!
Tap the tuning fork!
Now, start to strike the song
Played like mermaids, breaking wind.

The summer father
Has the keys he
Who growls and sometimes shrieks
Pouring bronze he
Sits at home he
Plays the skin of
The dead wife he

Rehearses with the blind asses he
Seems to be what you call
Jolly fate.

1 comment:

Anita Mendes said...

I`ve been here once and came back. Like the way you put the sketches and the poems in between... a visual overdose!!! GREAT!