Tom Hardy ≈ Two Poems






There we have it: the red-chested dog
Smudged and gasped: Golly golly:
Teeth of treacle seize the sugar inflight
Enjoying the brassy bark of atmosphere
Every square metre was wet
Paws merrily tapping the raised platform
The dog-gone pronouncement
Compressed for fifty years.





Quiet and quit

Reasons unrestrict


If all to

Exorcise glorious


Associations flick

With just as well


Things rocks and company



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