The Poems of a Young, Upancoming Poet

The poem is based on er hoor honor hour, on a true event that took place in my life. This is years before the cowface days. I didn't fit in at the picnic. Their disdain was barely concealed, so i said i was feeling a bit sick and escaped by way of a field. All around me, you lay sleeping, gentle faces turned to the skies,. Not talking, not judging, just softly sleeping, encrusted turds. Some fresh faced and soft like an on the turned souffle, and others brittle skinned with time, like a rancid crembrule Inaway you look like flying saucers descended down from heaven, a