EDEN
It’s too far to walk,
to negotiate these avenues of ardour
back to when we first grew
our orchard of lusts
the cherries still hang
fertile and abundantly set
amid blossoms of deifying
order. We were Gods,
now we worry about std’s
and the fruit cackles
as it is cut from the tree.
TOO LONELY TO MAKE SENSE - AGELESS POETRY - DADA 