Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2014
january in jersey is painted with globs of oils
all icicles and sharp edges and unmixed colors --
the view from my window when i lean out
to breathe smoke through my oscillating fan
is starker than greek statues (we know now to be garishly painted)
and every fractal dropping on my sloping roof
provokes me to paranoid thoughts of the matrix
and how close to death these dissolving shapes
spun me, sledding in my car, into a ditch off the highway

next week i bid goodbye to the atlantic and chase
watercolor scenery and exhaustively organized color pallets
and every breath that manifests in front of me
reminds me to leave.
j carroll
Written by
j carroll
443
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems