hand-caught in a grinder
tweenies anxious to play
a stepper
a steamer
a hole in a can
a prowl in passion rolled away

hit him on the mouth again
"what did you do that for, my friend?"
get it on the underground
in Berlin gray wind

children stomping
making a mural
hands anxious in the clay
that had been a big day-
it will hang there forever
and I will never forget my piece
of clay whatever

bottles clinking
in the plural
the familiar sound of disarray
and well outside the USA-
and I'll basically wait
i'm not too late
to crash you on a different
to crush you on a different
to see you on a different
kind of day.
Last edited by parkt921k at Aug 14, 2009,
This is hard for me to understand, but it has decent imagery and poetic language.
The second stanza is the weakest in my opinion because of the rhymes. but that's just me. Otherwise, pretty good.