When, at last, tomorrow is dawning
I’m crouched, brows furrowed,
In the burrow of morning.
Drowning in frowning king-uncrowning.
All passes under or over a bridge
All buzzes – feeble as a midge.
Then crouched when
It all happens again.
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1 comment:
Is 'frowning king-uncrowning' basically our project? I hope we succeed or we're gonna have some deep fucking frown lines!
Deep poem. Imbues the guys in the picture with busyness and life...
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