Wednesday 3/23/2011 12:18:00 AM

the sunrise talks through its fingers. scribbles on the waning pile. choices. the shaking door. filthy with conditions. when. the open lock. that senses when. tease if. patient songs. fickle answers. collaborating on the composition of a man.

she wakes the tornado. nudges only. and whispers of how. close is never near enough. the casual circle of life. the end. devours the beginning.

she sleeps on the storm. raindrops for pillows. thunder for dreams. the world in flashbulbs. pictures taken. permanent images. of broken bulbs and long corridors. the wag of their tails as the monsters pace. at the base of her garden.

swollen with hunger.

dead flowers. tiny wakes. for fractions of the now. their many mouse traps. moving closer to the hole. caressing the atom. as the molecules diminish. her caverns moist with the math. her head heavy with science. of the failing equations.

even the smallest numbers she knows. are still divisible. by one.


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.