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| Topic: Feast or Fester | |
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Gnawing to the cuticle,
saliva soaked nail crumbs litter grainy fields. Wind swept grasslands scrape weakened ankles, dusting off soot plumes cast-up tromping coals. Hunger gripes loudly watching wheat blow away. Festering appetite starving for bread. Gaunt- angst-ridden vagabonds careening headlong to the feast. |
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sounds like zombie feast...
So delighted to see you again, my dear friend tech  
Don't be a stranger now ya hear 
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sounds like zombie feast... So delighted to see you again, my dear friend tech
Don't be a stranger now ya hear
Hey Rosie. As always, I appreciate your attention and feedback. You know it didn't occur to me that this poem might conjure images of zombies. Now that you've said it, I can see it being interpreted that way.
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sounds like zombie feast... So delighted to see you again, my dear friend tech
Don't be a stranger now ya hear
Hey Rosie. As always, I appreciate your attention and feedback. You know it didn't occur to me that this poem might conjure images of zombies. Now that you've said it, I can see it being interpreted that way.
nah prolly just me 
It just you posted after I read a topic "How do I stop eating my skin?"   
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Gnawing to the cuticle, saliva soaked nail crumbs litter grainy fields. Wind swept grasslands scrape weakened ankles, dusting off soot plumes cast-up tromping coals. Hunger gripes loudly watching wheat blow away. Festering appetite starving for bread. Gaunt- angst-ridden vagabonds careening headlong to the feast. [/quot This reminds me of an ancient description of the starving Irish tromping the fields for left grain . |
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Thanks for checking it out and sharing your thoughts about it, PStar.
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