Incarnations are candid like the hand of my design.
Death's a silky brunette tossing tokens in my wine.
The day is due, but since I'm through, I'll sleep right through the sun,
'Cause light's alright but so uptight and night seems much more fun.

The streets get lit with tiny bits of bitter, bawling peasants.
They dance around the trash-can frowns and bake up all their presents.
I wake up and fill my cup with with life's twice-broken dime.
Death's a sullen brunette spinning tokens in the grime.

The brand of Brandy brandished in the sunflower strip scene,
Full of microdots of gold on cots so crystalline,
Leans in with fists of kisses, as I wish nothing for it's mine.
Still, death's a dying brunette biting her lip and sipping wine.

hummmmm

Full of microdots of gold on cots so crystalline, the neatest line of your poem.

i wish there was a like button on this site so i cud like this lol

i really like this one...

(perhaps i'll look for a blonde though)

twice-broken dime...

really liking it

what was going on in your mind when you wrote it...
curious
teasingbrunette

like how the brunette changes...you don't strike me as a blonde kind of guy

Thanks, everyone.

I don't know what you're humming, lid, but I'll assume the tune is groovy.

I thought the microdot line was probably the coolest too.

The "like button" is just "post reply" and then feeding my ego. *smile*

Cheers, kc! To each their own, friend.

Mostly the things that are always running through my mind, teasing. Crazy, right... Glad you liked it.

Thanks, pkd. *smile* You're quite observant.



Much love.

my hummmm's are always groovy

I love it plastic, and for some reason to me the word wine is always so visual

Yes, they are, lid.

Thanks, Row. Cheers.