on mad quest for
porridge
armed with pot and
bottomless
spoon
and with fervor of
such research
my gut shall be
mush by
noon.
on mad quest for
porridge
armed with pot and
bottomless
spoon
and with fervor of
such research
my gut shall be
mush by
noon.
she welcomes freedom
with tears
sheen
like shoreline
of stars
not seen as bright
through
bars.
relieve raw tickles
my tonsils
from fury’s fumes
guzzled
when too frazzled to
refuse time’s
muzzle
pet or words
run red.
i surmise failure to
thrive
forms a fist like
the glove
fits
loner likely
to be
hit
by self-inflict
stick,
a longing to shed
dad skin
and
seek shiny slit
to slip
in.
i fidget not to
flinch
when photos
find me
boxed in crotch of
crawlspace
damp from dreaming
ducts clenched
thru x-ray
flash.
dismissed as threat
to public,
swatting bat wings
at pass-out
spots,
pitching buttered
popcorn
at
parade of lawmen
mowing-
overperforming-
hand in
coat
plucking tightrope
to hear it
snap
zap crackle pop
of coke-can
candle..
wax sucked from
the tap.
a hope childly
sincere,
she smiles petals
flush
as fragrant dawn
drizzles
dew
on crop kissed
blush and
blue.
wistful watching
sparks
through sidewalk
sprinkler
rain-
shadows behind
projector
claim
castoffs barely
left home
sane-
sisters chased for
lifetimes-
dragging others’
chains.
soily toenails
tap to
rain
flushing veins
of tree’s
tendrils spiral
skyward-
too sudden to
save each
leaf.
knew within
hour
we met i’d not
keep
up
the chase while
saving
face.
You must be logged in to post a comment.