RAIN PELT WINSHIELDA Poem by Mockingbirdsquinting through the fog blinding thoughts beat down on this rain-pelt windshield fractalled from days of hail. gunpowder flashes freeze faces on rear view lobes streaked by sheets on panes distorting lanes outside a fragile frame. razor whispers rasp their mockery between the crash of cymbals pealing and careening til the slingshot alarm rives the silence of a midnight smoke. clouds abound in the absence of a rustle and the world is sheathed in a vinyl sleeve. squinting... squinting... where was i? © 2014 MockingbirdReviews
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Added on February 24, 2012Last Updated on March 14, 2014 Author
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