• 18 Jul 2005 /  Older Stuff, Poetry

    Rough like leather
    Boots that rub
    Dirty pans
    You have to scrub
    Rough like sand
    Sahara hot
    Rough you want
    Its rough she’s got

    Scrape her nails
    Right down your back
    Like a rusty
    Railroad track
    Twist your skin
    And bite your ear
    Push you to the
    Edge of fear

    Rough like junk
    Out in the yard
    Rough like sleep
    From which you’re jarred
    Rough like stubble
    On your face
    Scraped across
    A smoother place

    Tie you down with
    Hemp-cord rope
    Knots that leave you
    Little hope
    Stranded there
    For days on end
    Watch her leaving
    With some friend

    Rough is sleep
    That never starts
    Rough is dreams
    Of broken hearts
    Rough is what
    You thought was love
    Rough the cry
    Of cooing dove

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