recontre

 

 

Lets relume

as a ballonet

of skin-heads

in their white

membranous

tee-shirts;

sorcery perhaps

wanting everything

to appear changed.

Wanting the old

stars back.

Wishing the old

moons return.

Waiting for the

planets subtext;

the umlaut,

lost forever

in the vowel cloth.

A diacritical mark

placed over

ones head

to indicate a

more central

articulation,

like my toothless

grandmother at 89,

trying to pronounce

prejudice

with the J silent.

Reviews

[Emily B]

i think you found perfection, i think so

[caesarkreshen]

haha, shortlines. Harder than it looks, eh?