Monday, 25 June 2007

Wearwolf 7, Summer 1993

On yonder hill
A fire burns,
News that May
Has invaded April again.
I woke this day;
No come-back,
Only a gentle groan.
The Moon is still the Moon.
Beyond the biosphere
I slowly piss blood
Into a recently kicked bucket.
As a child
My father would
Warn me about
Sitting too close
To the TV set.
Radiation, you see.
Now the Cold War's over
I read sci-fi in the corner
Of the living room.
Yet again
She's got
The hots
For the man
Who came
To repair
The orgasmatron.

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