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francie-lynchPoems
The boys ran After the ball exploded The bedroom window. Shattered glass shards In indiscriminate flight. The ants re-grouped To build after The red-cherry erupted The hill like Pompei, Scattering serendipitously. Grimmacing quarter moon Pumpkins lay in hodge-podge Pieces on All Saints Day. Suitcases, clothes and neckties Stewn on a runway Like a kid's bedroom. We move from order to chaos, Like the third light On a match. I was lead to believe Displacement Laws, Science, and regular Bowels could explain Explosions, So we can lift the stones On Salisbury and Newgrange, Or re-arrange grains of sand With projected order. We only have a beginning And an end, while living Through the explosions.
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
Big Bangs
The boys ran After the ball exploded The bedroom window. Shattered glass shards In indiscriminate flight. The ants re-grouped To build after The red-cherry erupted The hill like Pompei, Scattering serendipitously. Grimmacing quarter moon Pumpkins lay in hodge-podge Pieces on All Saints Day. Suitcases, clothes and neckties Stewn on a runway Like a kid's bedroom. We move from order to chaos, Like the third light On a match. I was lead to believe Displacement Laws, Science, and regular Bowels could explain Explosions, So we can lift the stones On Salisbury and Newgrange, Or re-arrange grains of sand With projected order. We only have a beginning And an end, while living Through the explosions.
francie-lynch
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francie-lynch
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
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