Taking the Express to Bethnal Green

I had a friend,

He ate the seasons of the year.

He swallowed spring and devoured autumn

While grinning like a troubled beast


He shot up winter

Just to lose himself in porcelain girls

Who squabbled gnawing his insides.

He took summer slowly

And feasted like a werewolf,

Devoid of pain, regret or death.


He drank my eyes

And threw up life,

But all of it came out as

Comedy. and Comedy. and Comedy.


One comment

  1. […] Taking the Express to Bethnal Green (periodiccomposition.wordpress.com) […]

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