Tithing the squirrel

 A shard refracts a sense of normalcy,

the slow burning hope of orchestrating attraction.

A facade, the raging fire consuming the hills.

Overlooking insubordinate instruments the show procedes speculative of sabotage.

A final note jettisoned, to alienate the room's proclivity for silence.

A fostered roar among the pundits, and a repreive from the gavel.

Bound in polka dot sack-cloth, laid in squalour, 

my paper wings do reside on a shelf.

Tests of skin and fragmented melanin give rise to 

a true burned coil with a fleeting soul.

A tale of succinct importance, dredged with the needs of ten thousand.

She haunts the rosewood finish; the soother.

Every note she wrote in her summer dress.

Reviews

[luke312]

Very very nice It made my mind run with many images of many things one to be proud of.

[Jonhoi Vaughn]

You are like Martin Carter, Tennesse Williams, John Steinbeck, Delores Gauntlet and dare I say 2 pac rolled up in a big fat spliff! That was indredible dude.

[Jason Henry]

well at least one of us isn't losing his edge. you never fail to deliver epic reads dude...