Monday 6/08/2009 01:23:00 AM

The eager tortoise. With his paraffin paws. Draws novels in the sand as he walks. Feet on the swing set. Carving Obvious graves. The break. Her throat near to the glass. Solved shards. Perform a defiant Mosaic. Eager for the solvent. To break the bond. Arrange the blood. In sere alphabets. That cause us to remember. The useless temptations. For which there are no songs sad enough.

She paints the dark corner. Black enough to burst. Trying on all the empty gowns. 0f the cured. And those that would proclaim they are.

She chases the rabbit. Running as fast as she can. The mud barely keeping up. With parables called flesh. She swallows a chili pepper whole. Hoping he'll taste the heat in her. She closes the curtain. Convinced the world is gone.

It is.

A canopy of darts. Thrown and missed the center. She reasons with the moon. In bare confessions. The goal apparent. Convince this machine to listen. Though it it broken. Far beyond what she can ever hope to repair.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2021. All Rights Reserved.