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Gwen Whitmoore
Poems
May 2013
Eating Phantoms.
I am starting to feel like I used to so many many moons ago.
a paralyzed tide,
weighted down by a mundane, loathsome orbit.
nothingness spilling sloppily out of orifices once made stronger by the planetary ring of hope.
my electrons are stale and immutable.
my
id
fatigued and lamenting.
*I am sitting here rotting, eating phantoms in a desert.
Written by
Gwen Whitmoore
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Lucas Keith
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