Primary to pastel
to lights, darks
to static and noise
to nothing.
The old man ice-axes
memory mountain.
Some echo, some glimpse
of all he's lost
is all he seeks.
But all there is
in unpictured void,
scuttling, spidering
denying the light -
a parasite alphabet
barring windows
spinning webs -
the words for which
he once was famous
******* the juice from
all they ever meant.
While lesser spectres
span the spectrum
dreams and photons
undrowned in ink.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 8:23 AM UTC
Primary to pastel
to lights, darks
to static and noise
to nothing.
The old man ice-axes
memory mountain.
Some echo, some glimpse
of all he's lost
is all he seeks.
But all there is
in unpictured void,
scuttling, spidering
denying the light -
a parasite alphabet
barring windows
spinning webs -
the words for which
he once was famous
******* the juice from
all they ever meant.
While lesser spectres
span the spectrum
dreams and photons
undrowned in ink.
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