Tuesday, March 12, 2013

shorn to the slab

when not just any something will do
in contemporary hues
escaped convictions stow hope
colors brave the weather’s care
seeped in worry
seamed to uncountable sheep
where never is a thing without feet
splendor settles in
for skin
cronies we’ve got either’s poor
to put up with or’s
happy smarting
while every anything won’t
tempers and for’s
guess at the hunch
of over’s estimation
at lone’s less than two
in god willing’s try
to be caught in like’s only