![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNHQRMa84TsTuJiAeJdcJAHDGgElYACz9LNJa8lSPU3krIP4aJJJs3mXksh-G7KylBGwfN_ODOjiORVHimiTe5KiHh89xdIUjaxIo8OPQpoPkOh9RlAHH3NEyyRFRcVP9Pmu46lh9cGUU/s400/polar-explorer-claude-mccoy.jpg)
A Polar Explorer
.
All the huskies are eaten. There is no space
left in the diary, And the beads of quick
words scatter over his spouse's sepia-shaded face
adding the date in question like a mole to her lovely cheek.
Next, the snapshot of his sister. He doesn't spare his kin:
what's been reached is the highest possible latitude!
And, like the silk stocking of a burlesque half-nude
queen, it climbs up his thigh: gangrene.
No comments:
Post a Comment