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There's no film of the grassy knoll
near Hinken's Creek,
where the neighbor girl's shoe and foot
were pierced by a gig.
We carried her home,
fearing the commission of parents
would find us guilty.
We were not communists,
merely comrades,
sent to our rooms,
each awaiting a judge
returning from his place of business.
Would it be the belt?
No baseball or bikes?
Our conspiracies
had only been with ourselves,
not against each other.
There were tears
through admonishments,
before being banished.
I read "War and Peace."
..got Beatled
and Stoned.
6 October 2013
rwg
------
below the subliminal
deep within manipulation
that's where tr^th resides
2 Dec 2011
|
getting clocked
