Thursday, August 29, 2013


“I think I will go now, the booze is gone,
wherever the heart is, a box canyon
become an abattoir, corrals us all
and there’s no reason to continue gall’s
spleen: I can’t help it but I hate you now.
I think the hour of lead is melting, slow.”

(29 August 2013)

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander

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