Plucked Poem by Walter Burns

Plucked



she criti
sized me up
smearing petals on my arm
blood flowers
darting poisoned minds
she criti
culled me from my euth
anasia.

plucked

we sit on the couch for hours
and kiss with eyes wide open
she rubs the flowers into the moon
and when i close my eyes
the spots are prickly asses.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Walter Burns

Walter Burns

Washington D.C.
Close
Error Success