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Becalmed brides, sisters, speech so faint the spider, who can only know land as a wave of webs, could hear their voices only as the distant, fallopian sounds he always heard at human birth. The tension in his eyes was like a wake of cold water, as if the sea had parted and gravity had brought his web to rest against a bucket on the frozen floor, too cold for life. How I do love you, Little Betty Bo Peep. How I do care about your lovely, lonely sheep. And you too Miss Muffett, that such a king should play bo-peep, and go to fools while grapes hang frozen on your vines. I might have explained the clouds to you. I might have found the great breath. Do you see this? Look on her: look, her lips. St. Lucy’s gown forever fits. © Jim Kleinhenz
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Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 9:28 PM UTC
St. Lucy’s Gown
Becalmed brides, sisters, speech so faint the spider, who can only know land as a wave of webs, could hear their voices only as the distant, fallopian sounds he always heard at human birth. The tension in his eyes was like a wake of cold water, as if the sea had parted and gravity had brought his web to rest against a bucket on the frozen floor, too cold for life. How I do love you, Little Betty Bo Peep. How I do care about your lovely, lonely sheep. And you too Miss Muffett, that such a king should play bo-peep, and go to fools while grapes hang frozen on your vines. I might have explained the clouds to you. I might have found the great breath. Do you see this? Look on her: look, her lips. St. Lucy’s gown forever fits. © Jim Kleinhenz
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Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 9:28 PM UTC
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