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libramoon Profile
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7/17


Thick physicality of existence
weighs, pulls, shapes
obfuscates pure thought,
presses insignia into helpless skin,
dark sign of sin.

Sing us a story, now.
Pretty me in simpering poetry.
Trumpets of thunder, drums of
antediluvian rain.
Naught enough to dull peels
of pain, rants to scattering rats
past midnight, traipsing slick streets.
Stumbling in search of that secret window
to rainbow’s end.
To meaning’s dissolution, running down river,
rivers, oceans, peace.


7/17/15
Jul/17/2015, 4:47 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
Mojave216 Profile
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Re: 7/17


L---


abstract, but holds together throughout a wonderful torrent of language.


bernie
Jul/17/2015, 9:47 pm Link to this post Send Email to Mojave216   Send PM to Mojave216 Blog
 


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