As far as from the moonChristine Scanlon
The mad Madonna driving all the protestants wild went to the big city to find a father for the child. A ruddy face in the window the moon, for a song— she barks when its full in bed alone and cold a daughter up for grabs others just pass by the steeple painted gray high.
Christine Scanlon Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2021, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|