drops

I never listen to little snakes
drooling their usual marble drops.
Let them burn the dust of the tongues, the dust
cheaper than the immortal buglers of the north,
than the mounted police of Saturn,
cheaper than the mumble of a stoned sentinel,
a sloppy guardian of the hollow planet.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s