Red Rover, Red Rover… Lost one’s over
as the asphalt breathes beneath the feet
a silent hymn…perhaps a requiem
dressed-up neat
humming in tongue’s insanity
with a voice’s cough of suet
a litany of omen’s
between stained teeth
for ones that forgot their names
and sole mio, coming up short
casting shadows that don’t belong
when we were ghost and not pastrami








Haunting! Good use of words
I scribbled that at my bookshop this morning, counting my little piggies.
Hauntingly penned, Adagio. Great write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you.