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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in Poems In The Basement

03. your gray

we drove through God's country;
you'd tease me about my pit stops,
i'd tease you about your wobbly axel

and then we would make love in your backseat

the sex was awkward, at best
but you promised me stars for a crown
a skyline of green pine

our lives wrapped for miles in your haze

but the only thing i could see
heading up from the mountains
was a sky full of gray

a sky full of haze:
your gray

your
haze
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