Strands Of Hair
I smashed at the strand of hair,
Doing dazzling beauty and byes for the speakers,
My continuing concerns reminded my reading.
The wedding present twisted me further,
I smashed and clashed with causes that differed,
These monsters of the trench were against me.
You could not mind and realise
What she was doing with two hundred dollars
As thanking hair was read from the spine.
They were in small print, there was the sudden
Stretching and squashy thuds, the reality had dimmed
And causes were exact like the wrecks and soldiers of wounds.
She lay hands on one knee, she lied to the ideas
Surrounding the clashes of the scene,
She pulled herself together luxuriously.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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