Twilight Of The Gods Poem by Stephen Brian Brady

Twilight Of The Gods



At the end of the line
there's a swinging door
where short-wave radio won't reach

there's a waiting-room
and a rancid spoon
in a bowl of furred-up peach

there's a verandah
and a sleeping -car
and sand's blown-up from the beach

there's curtains
and the soft-pad paws
of a mutt and a steel guitar

and the little god from tumbleweed
plays chords
as loose as straw

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Aftab Alam Khursheed 24 May 2013

Brady its nice poem but can you explain, don't ignore plz

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Stephen Brian Brady

Stephen Brian Brady

Lancashire England
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