That's a dark trough we'd hide in. Said his sleep without @3frisson@1 in a meadow beyond Jupiter. It is no baronet of earth to stretch to -- flags planted will be only flags where no wind is. Hang me rather there or the prez's jowl on a stick when we piss on the moon as a wolf does NNW of Kobuk. I'll be south on the Bitterroot while you're up there and when you land I'll fire a solitary shot at moonface. I wish you ill's ills, a heavy thumb & slow hands and may you strike hard enough to see nothing at all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INSPIRATION by GRACE HOLBROOK BLOOD THE WIDEST HEARTHSTONE by BERTON BRALEY QUILCA HOUSE TO THE DEAN by HENRY BROOKE EPITAPH ON A FRIEND by ROBERT BURNS TO THE EARL OF CLARE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE CONFLAGRATION OF MOSCOW by CALEB C. COLTON TO FRANZ SCHUBERT by JEAN DREW FREEMAN |