CAVERNS, , run deep with your
broken glass words, your shadow
slithers, in then out, then fades
away like a bullet in a gun.
SHAKESPEARE, , , screams, this
will make a great play, pity its
the whore, the drunk, the fool,
that fills my pen.
DAVID GERARDINO
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/moon-light-madness-987/
