Ha-ha
sighing the sun fails into the vortex of the horizon
crowing the moon slides into my locket-pocket
Whoa-ho
the sixth trumpet blares backwards and beckons
Hell's hounds to sit
How-now
a bucket full o' bull-rushings
why do you bray at the sound
of nonsense...
So-ho, what is this rumbling
blood gushing of words
a Theater of Da-Da
Absurd?
Copyright March 15 2015 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells and co-Author Buddy Bee Anthony
All poetry/prose/rants/ideas are the legal property of these Writers