COYOTE BLOOD
poetry, art, mistakes, music, love, visions and everything...
More NYC Poetry (Or Sharp City)
Gotham through violence.
is a right bastard.
stories are passed around with a kind of hushed awe.
forget that
sturm und drang
and focus.
instead, on the ripping elation for a city that slits my throat.
Newer Post
Older Post
Home