Regrow :: Father

This vid's got me, all lank and lad, sans clue.
So cold, it's thirty years the past, before
the desktop factory. We farmers grew
the nourish people ate. Beyond that door
I'm mocking at, our cows and corn were store
for slaught. Oh, stupid kit, why curse me why?
You know for us to live, they had to die.


reading

image: po

Dylan Harris
2k+

it's my hands
my difficulty with melancholy
hence the coldness
fear in flight, god
dog sea
push pop
all
publish

© & licence
feedback
site home




this archive is hosted by arts & ego
© 1978-2023 dylan harris