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poem

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  • 25-11-2005 8:18pm
    #1
    stevejazzx
    Registered Users Posts: 3,247 ✭✭✭


    Tick Tock


    The calculated seconds simmer
    As number 4 is laborious
    Thirsty for that first glimmer
    “File the first: A notorious”
    Read the third three times
    On how A, then B, then C
    Lead me away from those seven crimes
    And duplicity

    Spied that solitary two
    Wrapped as a figure 8
    Their souls met beneath a tree
    On lips s wet their lonesome fate

    And number four is almost through
    As Z equals 26
    He cries “this ninth file is only new”
    “I smell another fatal fix”
    The small black book
    The thin red lines
    The purple patch went unrecorded
    The ledgers bent, the lights too low
    The purple patch went unrecorded
    The light the noise the ebb and flow
    The balance almost nigh,
    Love was U the twenty first
    You let me be your number 2
    But I like this ninth file still thirst
    For order through and through


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