AN INFESTATION OF TINY HELICOPTERS:
Faster than tears this one’s not stopping, dressed in white optimism.
Glances across the backs of headrests in shades. sunlit faces,
sunlit beards. What’s that stain, it gets too noisy? A bird on a stick
in low eternal flight over a cornfield, creaks. Mumbling wires vibrate
in a breeze, blood flowers raise their heads above wild summer grass
to glimpse the sun.
Kiss me quick. Don’t get upset.
Listening to:
(K)
Well…that’s real retro 🙂
Pretty. I would sit on the small red couch.
A Poppy by any other name.