Pedro Alonso Lopez
4th February 2005, 22:50
darkened alder as i think
as streams of lucid jet water spray my tiny feet
I push forward over the railing
dinting its top with sweat
A requiem for old ireland
or a poem for a lovely girl
To where, in a flicked slew
i watch each tender moment
she may as well say we are just good
hens
poem II: the strange alienation of irish students on a saturday night
there is a girl
and on a screen
she tells me things
and on my side split
and just like seamus heaney
am i as my laser like words
insight and invite
the tender words of
and msn girl
how one does be great:
am i a genius, perhaps
I was stunned and wearied
in a cancerous world. The marlbore and john player blues,
wont you just touch me,
snare?
as streams of lucid jet water spray my tiny feet
I push forward over the railing
dinting its top with sweat
A requiem for old ireland
or a poem for a lovely girl
To where, in a flicked slew
i watch each tender moment
she may as well say we are just good
hens
poem II: the strange alienation of irish students on a saturday night
there is a girl
and on a screen
she tells me things
and on my side split
and just like seamus heaney
am i as my laser like words
insight and invite
the tender words of
and msn girl
how one does be great:
am i a genius, perhaps
I was stunned and wearied
in a cancerous world. The marlbore and john player blues,
wont you just touch me,
snare?