Warholian Wigs
With a longing upward and out,
To meet those rosy slopes,
And explode into them
Before they erode
The failing time flattens out
Like the optimism of the old,
Whose tribulation has become rosy.
My star could crest
Parabolic
Over the etched stream
And it's etching.
Autor(es): Dave Longstreth
