Children Feeding WolvesThe loamy soup of molecules that make our bodies throb,Children Feeding Wolves18 hours ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
bulged against this prayer that the cradles not yet robbed.
A penny saved is penance, now to pay for splintered pigs.
Round thoughts not yet made spirals, like obesity they stick
to the ribs that smile slick for being deeply fried
in fatuous red ink that only years could hide.