The other night I chanced upon an irate caterpillar He was irate he had a darting face Crinkled with old forms Appendage arms spread out fanlike glancing His string noise boxes The rest were a howling wolf Afraid to be left upright against sleeping forte Calling to the caterpillar Throughout the time span Wanting to be fed wanting attention Wanting waiting full of tension They don't crowd the spiderlike object They didn't object at least not many Just waiting for the next creak From his aching limbs to reach their brains through Cup-like objects stuck on the sides of their heads No-one joked no-one spoke They became embarrassed and planted contempt Under their haunches When the caterpillar rested His appendages ummed His appendages arred But not connecting with The string noise boxes And... They...all just gazed
The other night I chanced upon an irate caterpillarTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
