RAMBLING GUTTERS
Out the rainwater idles the rush,
roofing the overflow, splashing the
mush. Here is the teapot here is the
dome, here's to the little man, dead
in his home. Oh how I wonder, oh
how I roam, I take with me everyone,
and carry them home. Fear not, my
ladies, fear not, my men. I am
with you, right to the end.
No comments:
Post a Comment