To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Running For The 2:22 In London underground you're breathless and twitching for the next train to sweep you away, for the screech of brakes every two minutes at most, and you're wond'rous wild in your velvet mini-minis and pink feathered boa and leather boots halfway crotchward, tossing your half-smoked ciggy into the face of a coming train, an express all the way to Woking, your long hair tossing like the mane of a wild mare. |
Additional Notes:
I may have made the line-breaks at awkward places, but I tried not to have "and"s appear all in the same
places.
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!