Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

(1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

Hi Tide (the watermark)


It's not sunrise as to sunrises you have had
and others use the other's window
just for lack of pride.
To use psychology as her only test
the ink blot never shows.
What it is you would ask about round holes.

In other words no one's going to look at you
unless you do another soul some wrong.
And some prison where they put your soul to hide,
naked on the rail where all will ride.

Arrangements will be made to bury all alive
beneath thin veiled beliefs and how I cry.
The very though
that I will not get out of life alive.
A warning sign to you am I about your lonely life.

Submitted: Saturday, July 27, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 29, 2013
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