babycakes

weep little sweet
the poisons in the treat
that ol junkdogs in heat
cause shes the bitch
that bites the witchs
thats serves the snitchs

and in her soiled knuckel locked
holster
is the courage feist that bolsters
slick eyed race
that cuts a trace

babycakes
gurl
you done gone
and set this town
awhirl

About This Poem

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: north ontario, CAN

Favorite Poets: Klo , .., Ida, .., Rhiannon1010, .., Pleiades, .., Valryianne, .., Ester, .., Stephanie, .., Emina Smajevic, ..., Elefentee, ..., Sommer Lyn, ..., Jasmine, ..., Rula, ...

Comments

weirdelf

13 years 2 months ago

hum, well, I mean, that is to say...

I don't know what to say. A successful experiment, a good poem.

Better than that... I know! You are telling a story, in your own inimical way! Woohoo, unusual for you.

Esker

13 years 2 months ago

whim sical

yes..this is correct Elf!

Nordic cloud

13 years 2 months ago

Wolf on the prowl

Oh the doggie girl
the sandwich
and the sweet candied thoughts
with underskirt currents
and poisoned with witches knuckles
feisted, lurched,

what was that,
passing between us there?
I didn't see.

Nordic in a cloud

Esker

13 years 2 months ago

I didnt see

magic in the sleight of this
the slate of fog
and its misted breath
written on silver backed meaning.....