Details |
Dannan Barnes Poem
pedalling my bike,
my legs became language
because as i rode
i could suddenly manage
all the words i wanted to say
released in a package
well, my bike is a pen
driving smoothly on pavement
its lines helped me when
i wanted to escape
so i rode my bike again,
pedalling for ages
Copyright © Dannan Barnes | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Dannan Barnes Poem
I saw the nice lady
in my dream again.
She read my palm
and frowned.
Closing my hand,
she gave my money back.
Wait, lady,
I never even paid you
Copyright © Dannan Barnes | Year Posted 2026
|