image: janrye (pixabay)

swollen larks
come

swarm my
tree-

for treats but
hands

in pockets
bleed,

drifter litters
bench

with bitter
stench

in meadow
park
..

dried up after
dark.

image: Leonhard_Niederwimmer (pixabay)

..found crumbs
in road

on my crawl
to carny
ride-

sun dipped
in tank
of

deep sea sounds
drowned

in cheeky
pink

…relief-

candy floss
teeth

of mouthless
clown
..

his comb over
blown-

i fled
fairgrounds..

to find no sign
of home
–

just empty
road,

then flagged down
the freaks

and begged to
tag along,

“sorry pal, this circus
ain’t for fleas
,

best
move on.”

image: mirkosajkov (pixabay)

been meaning to
get there,

wanting to
call

to prove i
still

know my
voice-

a smile from
steel,

been meaning
to listen
more,

trying to
care
..

but don’t
feel.

image: PubicDomainPictures (pixabay)
Clcker-Free-Vector-Images: pixabay

could listen
again
–

maybe hear
new
,

and not simply
replay
until

tune’s drained
of juice
–

hard to hear
truth
..

and listen
too.