John Vouloir—Postcards from the Wasteland (1)

A short poem sent from Werewolvesville

UNTIL THE BIRDS CRY

Sometimes when I lie down
I want to get up again
and scream
just scream
But I never do
I just lie there
Volcanoes inside me
One day I will scream
Until the Birds cry
and blue-lighted howling takes me to the opera
I don’t belong here
I don’t belong anywhere
So I keep lying here.

† JV

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