The garden of earthly preoccupation
By Parson Thru
Fri, 05 Aug 2016
- 2257 reads
5 comments
Guilt is sunning itself in the garden.
Upturned plates on supermarket steaks
deny the flies, whom,
I’m convinced,
would indulge, given half a chance.
Paranoia patrols the old suburban streets,
seeking new justifications.
The garden is resting,
save for a few workingclass pigeons,
a microlite,
and my mother.
Blue buses busy themselves among the cafes of Counter-Earth.
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I've read this one several
I've read this one several times, and decided I really like how surreal it is...working class pigeons and blue buses...why not?
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guilt is sunning itself in
guilt is sunning itself in the garden, well, tell it to get off it's fat arse and get a job. Pithy take.
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