Slim pickings, its an honor to finally greet you
lost among the fallen plumage pawned as new age gold
the gates fold but never open
the page was locked shut
the frame of mind was over-adorned with knots and spirals
all hail the idle!
half-asleep, ears closed!
where the fear flows
lapping at the waists of moon burned children.
(can't you)
hide your flesh from the night-callers’s lucid eyes
shoulder the burdens of the euthanized who scrutinize
the living for not giving enough?
insisting on plush
when the rough would’ve suited?
tailor-made for the favored spade’s favorite hijinks-
goodbye jinx, hello hex, run along curse
,
we’ll talk after a spell;
read, repeat just make sure you’re well versed.
Swell season for ideas to impregnate
fallen from trees to spring forward when the bell’s late.
wait, wait, wait
was that you ringing
?
back to the artifice of egg-shell swimming.
take care tinning, but let’s skip over hyperbole
since none want the sum of the shedding fleece and suture.
lips stitched shut
but the teeth still clatter
grinding though the cheeks blood seeps though the fabric
let it dry let it grow brittle till it snaps
just make sure nobody is listening when it happens.
Inspired by whim and shrug, two good friends who, once lost, have now gone all biblical allegory on me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment