unheralded bodies, Idiot's end
cleggs in the mouth of channel
two nurses in the stockings of red
smoke on the platform of station
blues and wine are all that is left
from truths of the fallen religion
everything else has turned into ash
or became chimera's addition
over the corridor white heron runs
somewhere out ov the view
in narrow chamber somebody lies
covered with pomegranate juice
tomorrow coma will catch up to him
and only Quasimodo's hand
will light a candle, say "R.I.P."
and praise the idiot's end
Idiot s end
© Copyright: Лорд Брайтон, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117021001543
Свидетельство о публикации №117021001543
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