fingers folded over
molding
apple-
into
scrap pit
till further needed,
will pray that dirt
nor decay
completely
claim
it-
dare i
yet
wish to
kiss
it.
poem
seller poorer than
one who
pays,
worse being caged
or the cage?
friends only, firmly
on the fence,
which side hides
that which
mends?
breath returns fresher
than when
sent,
no refunds for
where time
went.
i’d be wise to chase
hisses home,
crack the panes,
unshackle
time,
should i taunt
flames
best contain the
spread of
mine,
sparing cardboard
creatures
guarding arid
acres
miles from
crime.
feigning
calm
on
baited line
braced for
breakneck jerk,
make it painless
as quick
be
it fate
of fightless
fish.
blind uncertainty of
where we
rest
a breath from now
should lungs
consent,
bunkbed’s
top rung’s bent
from loaded
stance
of
bricks named
man
land upon whose
head?
swagger up to
muted
mic
stand side by
pride
with any
fool in room,
name his genius,
curse his
luck-
snicker like his jokes
don’t suck.
rush empty
now-
everyone
out
of spun web
mouth,
on fog breath
routes,
reflection’s
grey..
frostbitten
teeth
latch coward
needs
gums bled to
drought
don’t reach
for me
no matter
depth,
not of my
head-
the genie’s
out.
she flashes queens
to show who
leads
with
courtly will
finds us flower
framed
and mounted for
the masses,
gossip at the
gallows
shrill
and hollow,
sinking to my knees,
in lethargy-
not
to appease.
fingers
trace tan lines,
sand dries
on lips of sunshine,
as clouds recede
from grainy
gaze
has not quit
for days.
perfect cosmos in
a bubble,
burst by
poison pin,
out of touch with
time vows
pain.
i sigh
deep lunged
and
float back in
thru overstretched
membrane.
hands in the garden 
You must be logged in to post a comment.