Poems from Gregory A Noland.
The fishermen trolls
The fishermen bounces the bottom
The fishermen uses live biat and dead most the time rotten.
The fishermen catches...
The seasons are changing normal is no more
reaching for outer space suddenly we explore
Polititions are barking on boxes promisses
they...
Cuaght and fished thuroley consumed, a ton of spices
gourmet slices or desicrated. either way the fishes are doomed
The thrill of the...
Life is good, or barely make it
More money the god. they take it
On a yaught happiness faked it
Looking off instead of shared it
Grinning...
What will set us free
who we or what have we become so many paths
and then we are done.
/The bones are aiken
and the doctors are here to...