THE CRY OF THE RIVER BIRD by Samson Abanni
The hangman has loaned us more time so
we now roam the earth as stories.
Stories of a plant who’s scent is it own herbicide
The hangman has loaned us more time so
we now roam the earth as stories.
Stories of a plant who’s scent is it own herbicide
Because, in the end, this is what you are and this is what i am: fucked spirits in a fucked world