corona 15.
Such extraordinary light from Los Angeles in the shape of burnt angels and Kentucky in the shape of red eyed Jesus and from the mountain where the grapes and dogs lie side by side I don’t know who you are but I love you there is no poetry in me today I am a dry spigot on an elephant’s trunk a gold bee dying on the windowsill
posted by Radish King at 3:18 PM
5 Comments:
I love you too.
And yet you wrote poetry. Such a fine poem.
I had to scratch it out on the wall. Each day is a marvel of dark and light. ❤️
we have been getting extraordinary light in Bristol - I think it's echoing over from you xxxoooxxx
I love you Warrior Queen.
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