Armand Poetry

Welcome to Armand Poetry. The poems (and other words) here are composed for my own thought and amusement. Comment and discussion are welcome. -Amore, Armand-

Sunday, August 28, 2005


I feel red.
Flush with the noonday heat
of a cloudless golfcourse

Sweat pooling.
In the small of my back
against the leatherette

My senses dulled
The eastern hammer
glowing in it's forge

Half way to nine
I give up
and go home


Post a Comment

<< Home