Crooked Tom Thumb
shadow of the greyblue stairs
heading up to who knows where
jaws of a shark on the litter bone night wall
crazy to my right the lifeless painting
hangs speaking to no one
but the devils grass leaning
against the heavenly window
saintly church bell shadows
empty pews
turning screws
confessional blues
feelin like crooked tom thumb on the run
fighting with giants singin with bums
achin to the bone sometimes numb
miracle train she runs and runs
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
