A light breeze stirred by a ceiling fan
Rust colored grapes with unused wick
Black boxes making loud noise
Wood, steel, dust for ignoring
Seven books of circles, missing two
Eyeless snake, purple, blue, green, orange, yellow
A substitute for your tears
Glass wax filled cup extolling LOVE
Bars of buttons, black, silver and white
Metal cross that will never be pierced by nails
A portrait of Jesus Christ beneath red time
Dead motor starving for electricity
The smell of ***** stirred by the whirling spirit breeze
Flower time never passing five twenty three
Altar temporarily darkness shrouded
Rabbit, flowers, bear, O Happy day
Invisible God sings “Come back again”
Sound and vision categorized, rarely seen or heard
Small life, tiny breathes, hungry for ****
Magic metal cubes, alchemic circles
From thin air, manifested manufactured chaos
Messages, riddles, proclamations of love
A bedtime story about the Wild West
Slices of trees, glued together, given names
Shadows, mirrored lights, ceiling fan, triptych
The Great Emancipator looking under fingerprint stained glass, discarded
Evolved being denying the elements
Narcissist pools everywhere
Incredible miracle fed through lines and air
Cells with open doors, keys thrown away
Prisoners content, afraid of what’s outside
Poets fooling themselves believe in inspiration
All of this. All of this. All of this.
All of that. All of that. All of that.
It overwhelms, confuses and boggles
Try to take it all in---explode and disappear
A chain hangs from the ceiling
Pull it once, the ceiling fan turns
Pull it twice, the ceiling fan slows to a stoop
And if you pull it really hard
You will yank the ceiling fan from it’s moorings
If lights are part of the fixture
They will break into a thousand tiny fragments
If you step on one your foot will bleed