Rebel Angels, Mountain Dance
Labouring dismally under a sky
Misapprehension, all gone awry
Never pretending to understand why
The clouds tip their piss upon me
if I were certain how soon it might stop
Disconsolation at each wretched drop
Might not give way to an out-and-out strop
(But I'd still have to get back to Bromley)
Without a clue of how to get back,
The sky belched an almighty crack
The thunderclouds loomed dire and black
Then the fog fell hard and set me off track.
Flooded galoshes and dull achy feet
much more of this and my maker, I'll meet
When finally. I walk the golden street
(But I'd still have to get back to Bromley)
Contributors: | loaf, chaise, Beefy, Stephanie Caouette, Megg Byrnes, Lori Cushman, Scott Wosleger, Howard Hafford Sr., (trad). |
Poem finished: | 4th February 2004 by Anon.. |