ChagrinA Poem by Alistair (Ali)..a "Rain-time Truth"..
Those
cranes have earned their
sack of seed They
pulled these pencil turrets through
a sturgeon curd of feckless wet to
leave them where they lay.
Because
of this i
sit indifferent, satchelled in
an unmade bed, a
simple- headed almanac of
beige and sable rhetoric.
My
heritage; an
Eton mess of
trampled roman candles left,
by careless midnight masses that
come scratching at my door. © 2018 Alistair (Ali)Reviews
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3 Reviews Added on January 25, 2018 Last Updated on January 25, 2018 AuthorAlistair (Ali)Cardiff, Wales, United KingdomAboutI write because I cannot paint. I enjoy the flavor of words, their subtle tastes and textures. I savor their spice and their sea salt. They are washed in on tides of thought, and i comb the strand.. more..Writing
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