Billet-Doux

It came to me in a dream.

You are
a brass framed
feather bed
in the middle of
a dilapidated forest
white
waxen
cadaverous
arms and metacarpals
outstretched
screeching praise to
Father Fumigated Sky
a tie dyed atmosphere
embodying the ambiance
of some apocalyptic rose garden
bled gold, wine,
& liquid ecstasy
and leaked through chemical clouds
or the coagulated tears of
God...

my strange,
creaky comfort.

may we

watch it all
crash down
in peace.

Reviews

[The Twin Arenas]

Yeah it's very dream like. technicolor and dizzying.

"tie dyed atmosphere" jumped out.

you have a really good sense of where to break s**t up. not a lot of poets do, and they should, because that's what poetry is. that's what makes it different and layered and beautiful. it's not prose.

great, again. i hope you write lots. it's a hallucinatory landscape you're building.

[Chloe Grant]

This is a great story. I love it. Awesome job!

[Jamie]

Such a great read was hooked on this from the first word, Great work.