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Poem. wrote the words in rehab 2 but put it together just recently. I probably don't like it.
The tracks, could.
would take a liking to
both forks, we could take
neither fork. our tongue.
in between the
passersby, the seconds
connect. The neck runs
Real. They, on
the silence of a stump,
vomit.
A chicken runs circles, bawks
connects the seconds
poor Passersby
in between my
neck.
The period after neck is supposed to be alligned with the end of the previous line, but it wouldnt let me post it like that for some reason.
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