TWINE ON THE GROUND


Green and white shards of bucks
Tethered to the wind I had
Nobody having slept in the yard
The ceiling was a mile or two
Cold enough at least for shipping
Into the bold stripes I am not
Took to the streets and came into blood
But there was a tried and true method
Somebody went crazy trying to undo the porch
Like ash in the fountain
Winter isn't even a broken face
As you imagine it
Did I tell you of the buried life you are