Since this stay I’ve come to feel at home in this infested hotel room where, as the only jockey brave enough, me aboard Lady Luck, I win the roses in the daily run for the roaches.
Life’s a human race where Truth is lost by blinders. I win what is real.
These roaches are real. Really thick as thoroughbreds, and just as fast. And Lady Luck would survive a nuclear blast. So, bugler, toot that horn. Be real. I got Lady Luck, and she’s no unicorn.
Published by Other People's Flowers, 2019
Rating | User | Comments | Date |
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Christopher Russon | 14/05/19 |
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