A Shoulder to Cry On
Rainbow Men shouting through bullhorns spreading more fantasy, none of us are immune. We do what we have to.
Reduced to hieronymusian satire pleading for the birdsong to stop, love
you have to know I sorry for that, I have let everyone down, everyone, carrying the tensed bruele of regret.
Running off to work so I wouldn’t be late and I made it, I made it.
Going through the motions as hard as the next soul. A long line of weepers taking turns to pay respect.
That little girl, people literally walking over her, strait over her. Someone had to say it, it just goes on and on unabated.
Slave queens spinning on crowns, clowns, merchandise balloons, one after another, rise above the glass titans.
Stars that hover over them, the dollar that backdrops all. When there was no longer any doubt, where were you?
I told you where I was.
always poems that excel the one before and that yet incomparable to any other...love your works, Yarbrough
This is deeper than oceans , filled with the tapestery that makes life much more worthwhile ..we as human beings owe a lot to it .
God...breathtaking.