- Non-Erotic Poetry
- A Cloud of Dust
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Click hereThe answer does a soft-shoe.
You ask if I trust
dancing with a question.
I ask if I must.
The storm invites us in.
We ask where we’re going,
he tells us where we’ve been.
The donor’s selling
yesterday as tomorrow.
He promises happiness,
he delivers sorrow.
The answer does an encore.
We couldn’t ask for less.
Nobody asked for more.
- COMMENTS
twelveooneover 16 years agoI like this, this part sags though, a little forced.
The donor’s selling
yesterday as tomorrow.
He promises happiness,
he delivers sorrow.
Otther parts expand and collapse, quite nicely.
