Suckle at my knuckle
A horsefly or two
Human blood for them
Seems the perfect brew
When they've had their fill
Their bellies quenched
My knuckles're left red raw
Like an overworked wench
Showing posts with label brew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brew. Show all posts
Tuesday, 2 April 2013
Monday, 12 December 2011
Missing Milk
Missing milk
Is quite the shame
When man returns
His tired frame
To recuperate his mind
Only to melancholy find
His milk has gone
Been all but used
And instead of his milky brew
A black coffee
Will have to do
The author's relationship with milk is such that it could be inferred that the lack milk mirrors the writer's mind: both having been ravished by modern society's routines.
Is quite the shame
When man returns
His tired frame
To recuperate his mind
Only to melancholy find
His milk has gone
Been all but used
And instead of his milky brew
A black coffee
Will have to do
The author's relationship with milk is such that it could be inferred that the lack milk mirrors the writer's mind: both having been ravished by modern society's routines.
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