Thursday, May 18, 2017

Poem 92: If you are hunted

If you are being hunted
Mr President
by witch-hunters

first of all, congratulations
that is pretty exciting

but you can't keep running forever
the witch-hounds when they have your scent
will not retire
until they have you hent

sucks to be a witch

but here:
you can come to Tennessee
I am way in the east
and hide in my woods
which are a right selva oscura
for the nonnes
at the back of my farm

there are mushrooms
there is a dirty spring
there are fucking weird-ass insects
that you can eat

here you can relax, be free

and you can trust me
I've been hiding witches here
for years



No comments:

Post a Comment