Thursday, July 5, 2007

a pinch of salt a pinch of dust
immaculate death, love is lust
no glory, brains a senile rust
yet you thrust
yet you thrust.

5 comments:

Johnny Tent said...

A gust of wind, a fist of fire,
a chest of heart, a heart of ire.
Crushed under salty ulcers of
a fierce desire.
A fierce desire.

You may thank me for the plagiarism. It's the best form of flattery.

Sameer said...

yap yap yap....(ace ventura lafing)

Johnny Tent said...

By the way, it does not mean anything.

Sameer said...

wat doesnt?

if its my laf ur takin abt..then ur rite :)

Johnny Tent said...

Na, I meant the poem. It's more of a rhyme. Just sounded good, the words seemed well-strung, so there it was.