You can touch me but not hurt me

My nose is stuffed

The air is working

Its way through my mouth

Into my brain

 

Grass is greedy

Holding on

Back is talking to

The white car slams into

 

The white car

Close your eyes and you won’t see

The monkeys in the tree

You can touch me but not hurt me

04-08-1991/2

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Epic poetry resembles that zoology