Escape from work on fleeing feet
I run to the river where I can't get lost
Feet flowing through the flowers of the river park
Trees very pregnant with blossoms
Giving birth to purple flowers
Underneath the trees is purple snow
Someone's car has made black tracks in
Flower smells surround me, shoving me along
While I am heavy with love for losers
Losers are oleander flowers
Sweet and soft
Till you eat the poisonous flowers and die
A dish of oleander soup for all losing lovers.
© Copyright joan joesting 1978
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