Leóþwyrhta

Hydrocephalus

2006

Brigades of fags
mosquitos dont mend it
I cant feel my legs
now pansy, can you bend it?
 
Share an umbrella
the cold makes me shiver
talk shop with another fellow
while we stand in a river
 
Swim through swamp and moor
with familiar ducks and even snakes
the mud tastes like cure
and so do your mandrakes
 
Kiss my cheek, lamb-like meek
tomorrow Ill rock the show
distracted from waiting for a leak
that will make my darkness glow
 
On rainy days like these
in narcoleptic nation
Im so sick of rotten cheese
and my summer hibernation

Other works by Leóþwyrhta...



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