The vacuum moves through her. With bent fingers. Broken toes. A sublime radiation. Still born babies. Harsh abortions. Entropy thrills to the sound of breathing. In a vacuum. Dead things. Unaware that they are.
Each day in doses. Of foul medicine. Every wolf in grandmother's clothes. Such big teeth they have. In this vacuum. Time has culled. The barren limbs. Of trees that once bore fruit.
The question on the back of her neck. Asking again. The vacuum of her moans paralyzing him. The sun not far. The moon closer yet. Sour candies in shiny wrappers. Transport us into the vacuum of how. Inadequate are the numbers. How distant is the the path. Helpless fish biting on the hooks. The numbers cropping up everywhere. Dandelions in neglected grass. Easily navigating the vacuum.
That would have us forget.
Tuesday
5/19/2009 12:06:00 AM
Sad Labels:
introspect
,
loneliness
,
love
| Life Poems |