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kate-browningPoems
A jump rope lisping Through loose gravel and rhymes. Resembling orchestras and rapidly Scratched-out novels, Evolution of an indifferent ****** Delicate lacework stitched Beneath the youthful And frail. Disintegrating Like a bird’s nest, once Air conditioning expires. Scampering between markets, Wavering while waiting In redundant lines, as you Carelessly caress outerwear that you Waited in line for yesterday. Placing yourself professionally On seats, beside plainly colored Briefcases. Quivering arms Tingle, as the blood Relinquishes. Wordless entities fill Empty rooms, as pressure Builds from the exterior and in. Tarnished sneakers sink and slip, Amidst cunning quicksand. Mangled and thrashed, Fabrics that used to be Accustom to merry-go-rounds, and dry Eyes. Gently laced hemming, Lacerated at the seams. Stroll down whimpering sidewalks That sting for vibrations, fixed By a stranger’s oblivious feet. Jerking outerwear closer As no emotions pass. Synthetic joy overcomes You, when droning Minds think alike. Wriggling and skulking To cease the crunching of time.
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Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 12:40 PM UTC
Rocks and Hard Places
A jump rope lisping Through loose gravel and rhymes. Resembling orchestras and rapidly Scratched-out novels, Evolution of an indifferent ****** Delicate lacework stitched Beneath the youthful And frail. Disintegrating Like a bird’s nest, once Air conditioning expires. Scampering between markets, Wavering while waiting In redundant lines, as you Carelessly caress outerwear that you Waited in line for yesterday. Placing yourself professionally On seats, beside plainly colored Briefcases. Quivering arms Tingle, as the blood Relinquishes. Wordless entities fill Empty rooms, as pressure Builds from the exterior and in. Tarnished sneakers sink and slip, Amidst cunning quicksand. Mangled and thrashed, Fabrics that used to be Accustom to merry-go-rounds, and dry Eyes. Gently laced hemming, Lacerated at the seams. Stroll down whimpering sidewalks That sting for vibrations, fixed By a stranger’s oblivious feet. Jerking outerwear closer As no emotions pass. Synthetic joy overcomes You, when droning Minds think alike. Wriggling and skulking To cease the crunching of time.
kate-browning
Written by
kate-browning
American
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 12:40 PM UTC
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