Saturday, January 17, 2009

drowning in the syllables

the lexicon I'll never know
I'm drowning in the syllables.
wading in the conjugations
is the soul of saint I can't defame.

where is the future for the modern man
hyper aware of how the seconds pass?
eyes on the world that swirls about
wristwatch makes a fine, fine bracelet
common faces in common places
rusted sardine cans fished from open seas
on the crest that will build to break foundations
of the pillar that shades where the turtles breach.
cascade, cascade, crescendo
fad fades black to innuendo
a thin grin smeared on a chap-lipped frown
dimple deep puddle where you soaked your gown
and the alphabet soup cutout to ransom dish
glue encrusted fingertips that failed to grip
the ledge from which you shrugged the common tongue
and gave in to the lingo, the lingo, the lingo

the lexicon I'll never know
I'm drowning in the syllables.
wading in the conjugations
is the soul of saint I can't defame.

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