Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Poems and Prose #41 - Mounted

Stuck atop a swaying hill,
I unzip my waistpack and pull out a pill,
then stick it in my mouth
and chew until it's swill,
smiling through a grimace
and my moistened, black eyesills,
as the ground beneath me
subtly comes to a dreamy, dull standstill.

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