awfully sick and getting sicker
crank the voices, let ’em bicker
firmament is built of wicker
vice tomorrow? maybe liquor
beggar, yes, but still a picker
Tag: bicker
poem: poop in my poems and pipes
poop in my poems and pipes
it’s a life
drifts by like a fictional brick under ice
I’ll bicker and bitch after this as it is
forgive me, for I’m impolite
