Ended
It said
She read out
The dead.
Founded
Instead
To watch over
Her head.
Little Miss
Dread, this
Here your
Bed.
Little Miss
Dread, you
ate moulded
Bread.
The crust
Was so soft
And green
Orange red.
Thirsted
Salt bathed
Drowned
It said.
About Me
- Leila Rousseau
- Constant complainer, effervescent explainer, road rager, mostly moody, joke laugher, make believer, neverender, air breather and happy if you allow me. This is the incomplete scrapbook of Leila Rousseau's modernly artistic scrapings. Nothing is clear and nothing is really here. We can't all be inspired, and we can't all be interested. Be humble to knowledge, as it will always be greater and more fierce than ego and explanation. Everything here is my own, but I wonder whose I am. So I could pass on the credit, when I might make someone giggle, a little.
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