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Sep 2010
It has every right to bare
this clenched fist of a grudge
embittered by techno-Jovian
whims and base transformations

Once delicately formedβ€” two
tips pressed en pointe, three
others elegantly tuckedβ€” it
danced with a golden shaft
pulling indigo pirouettes
across a swept ivory stage

Then came the re-pose: a claw’s
arched looming. Unhappiness
fell as five wilted stems,
beggar mouths forced to fumble
toward those impoverished
humps of white-on-black glyph

The other hand is left
complimentary, richly gripped
by understudy glee, being
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.
Francis Scudellari
Written by
Francis Scudellari
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