Sunday, January 22, 2006

Tulips


cupid drooled from two lips onto tulips in the park,
lucid dreams of drooling onto tulips in the dark,
spooling streams of nonsense is a widow still in love,
fueling the means of content out a window sill above.
she might as well sew his livid lips together,
but if a kiss is not a kiss then a flower is not a feather.