Capital q Poetry
Poetry from the fellow Trent Bellwood
1/6/13
Push
Oh. Hello.
I know you
Words push at my toungue
Like a shoddy set of trumpeters
Who feel mildly out of place in the open
For this i mum
Hear it zip the air clean
Into an abstract eyedance
That pops pomp
And sucks tromp
From sickly between
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