I'm carted into the corridor,
the ballasts on the ceiling buzzing,
my irises motionless.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Poems and Prose #55 - Masonry
The hammer clangs
against a wall
of dirty bricks,
displacing
brown-and-red powder
that hits the floor
and grates underneath
my booted feet,
as I move
from side to side,
pounding on
my heavy silhouette
for hours and hours.
against a wall
of dirty bricks,
displacing
brown-and-red powder
that hits the floor
and grates underneath
my booted feet,
as I move
from side to side,
pounding on
my heavy silhouette
for hours and hours.
Poems and Prose #54 - Fulcrum
Moreover,
I lament,
additionally,
pausing to clear my throat,
I furthermore elocute,
hereon,
flatly and baldly,
that,
for better or,
perhaps,
worse,
I,
neither fortunately
nor in the contrapositive,
have nothing to say.
I lament,
additionally,
pausing to clear my throat,
I furthermore elocute,
hereon,
flatly and baldly,
that,
for better or,
perhaps,
worse,
I,
neither fortunately
nor in the contrapositive,
have nothing to say.
Poems and Prose #53 - Olympic
The deities giggle,
thunderclaps echoing,
as the tree-dotted plains
sporadically brighten,
then fade to darkness.
Even as they stand
up here,
gleaming,
heavy crowns
atop their heads,
the clouds don't
sag an inch,
and the raindrops fall,
or don't,
regardless of where
their mighty hands wave.
thunderclaps echoing,
as the tree-dotted plains
sporadically brighten,
then fade to darkness.
Even as they stand
up here,
gleaming,
heavy crowns
atop their heads,
the clouds don't
sag an inch,
and the raindrops fall,
or don't,
regardless of where
their mighty hands wave.
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