All In
So
I raise everything you know
To call would take all of the names for snow
Every pronunciation of love linked with every lyrical vocal
Language and math
And a by hand biograph
Written in sanscrit with the paw of a kitten.
To raise
Would take a hedge maze
In which
Seen by plane would display the plight of a witch
In protestant New England circa 1686.
If you falter to call
That means you failed to enthrall
My bank of wordy antics
Panting, bankrupt on the floor and kicked
Into the air, ringing, like your last penny flicked.
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
All In, which
was posted on Oct 23, 2009 by
Tad_Winslow.
This is a collaborative poem.
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This poem is filed under:
Just for Fun
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