Desolate table

It is freezing for big freeze is the loose fate of all the cosmos

Its weeping like a maudlin cat having lost the summer for nothing

I am writing on a desolate table with the TV sports on

Its Copernican dream tearing itself apart for Mathematics is too strong

The love of a woman is the forlorn silence that I beg to differ rather than

Agree with the God’s words for the eve was left out in the cold

On a dreary April morning when the lock clicked with the fortune

Of a Spiderman out to bend the destiny with the web and wipe out itself

Its the desolate table with stakes on of a failure of the cascading skies

To unwind for one kiss is the dream of a gypsy woman out in the folds

Of Child’s destiny to turn the fruit rather sweet than to snatch from

The gaping mouths of a twenty and score being fed for nothing

While I on a desolate table continue my yarn of a story on and on.


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