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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in Words Words Words

spilt

 

all my words
are of me
deep into me, and out of me
about and through me

spilled and running through
my outstretched fingers

I claw and clutch them
till free they dribble
from sticky fingers to
splatter my white page

today, I used my right hand
and couldn't wash it

does it count?

 

 

Leanne - on Oct. 4 2007

What a wanker you are.

Is there any reason you've used "spilt" as the title, but "spilled" in the poem?  


Callooh - on Oct. 5 2007

Leanne:

uh, cuz I weren't payin' attenshun.... no no wait there is a deep poetical reason that I cannot reveal because it could shatter minds - yeah that's it!

and you warm my heart - didn't think anyone would notice wanker imagery- but I guess it depends where your mind (hand?) resides


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Ekki-Ekki-Ekki-Ekki-PTANG. Zoom-Boing. Z'nourrwringmm
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