 |
My heart swells
and spills out, under my eyelids
when I hear the applause
after the orator's words,
the athlete's chest lurching finally
forwa..
|
|
Your pure beauty and innocence scream.
My mind, a white blind cresting wave,
consumed with the buttery perfection of
yourflesh,warm and pulsing,..
|
|
Who is this specter
that is always with me-
these visions of my own trepid spirit
constantly flung beyond these
hours?
I haunt my own dark hal..
|
|
I am growing rings. Each fine line
found on the backs of my hands
and around my eyes tell a story,
as a tree trunk that is opened to the
wind,
is..
|
|
This room feigns silence
while all around, clouds of cacophony
reflection gather;
wide roads jammed with pregnant
balloons of possibility,
clown ..
|
|
The washing machine just moved my
house.
One hundred year old studs
gyrate in circles
as my clothes spin,
and I am agape.
A tornado has shorn oc..
|
|
One by one
they walk
into the night
and I am left
on a pierfacing the sunsetalone-
my words,
all that remain
to carry
the weightof
their s..
|
 |
Enough
with going through the motions.
Pile
sticks on top of sticks with the morning paper.
Light
the kindling to my finite ego.
I
need to unfu..
|
|
The pillow soaked up words, worlds
floating into focus on platform clouds
spilling onto the quilted coverlet
a smooth hewn surface of fanciful real..
|
|
Fly's in the buttermilk,Shoo, fly, shoo
blood tinged waking
fills up shadowed bins
old promises in
crackled sidewalks
pastel chalk
seepin..
|
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