Wednesday 1/31/2018 11:37:00 PM

the wind is weight enough. as the road unfolds under my panic. there are no places. there are no sounds. as we slip out of these wasted skins.

the rain's simple song. the body's grave inflections. hope's deceitful epiphanies.

the cautions of thieves. all broken threads. the force of distance. a catapult of choices.

it's all knots. tiny nooses. blunt needles. caught in the holes.

our bodies spread like disease. touch is fatal. our lips betray. every word a treason.

the distance tells us. little stories of picnics and wolves. breadcrumbs and candy houses. to gut. to follow.

and big teeth. so many fangs. biting down.


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