Fret not my friends for no one knows it’s you
Vicariously living through the vastness of vegetables
Grasping at plastic wildlife without a hint of sarcasm
The irony lost in wrinkles of time
Deep fried beet poets beating past glories
Red with rage and essential nutrients
Streaking outside the lines of the as-advertised adult colouring book
Following the crumbs of left over reality
Back on top of the bottom out in front of your rear
Erleichda my friends
Our polyurethane polyamory will always persevere
Categories: Writing
Doug Heal 