Tom Simard

Poetry, Music, and Prose

Archive for the tag “lay”

Book 18

“’Out of the doorway, geezer, before I throw you out
On your ear! Don’t you see all these people
Winking at me to give you the bum’s rush?
I wouldn’t want to stoop so low, but if you don’t
Get out now, I may have to lay hands on you.’”


The hides
piled high
in the rickety
old carts
that moved along
the dusty trails.

All across
the plains
that stretched
so vast
the bodies lay
to rot.

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