Virgil's Faeces
Poetry and Prose by Craig Guthrie
Sunday, 15 September 2013
On the Back of a Crumpled Receipt in the Car
He got to hang out with the big boys for a while,
Until he realised how little they were,
And went back to being alone.
Camouflaged twig under a forest stile,
Sheltered from the weather,
Carbon matter on loan.
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