Tuesday, 2 December 2014

Joanna’s Beaky Binder

Epistaxis Quaestio Blues
Please excuse my nasal narrative
At times I’m talking through my nose
Saying things ‘whatever’ brings
Which way the bleeding wind blows

Drops of bloody nasal drippings
In my crimson handkerchief
The ragged bone will not postpone
My conked out nose gives no relief

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