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Grinding along its age-old axis which knows of approaching death, The world pivots on a baby’s breath. The Rock beholds his baby as a plinth, Its lungs lamenting the loss of a leisurely labyrinth. Highwaymen hit the open road in rattling carriages, Bibbed and drooling with mouths welcoming meat wedges. In the mind’s meandering pathway And the incubator cot’s cold corridors, I sought to take away Routine’s rasp and all of its bores. No toy to be found. The whirling wheels left vapors On highway tracks, chafing the skin of tarmac like sandpaper. Only as the Old Bull lifted me from my minute home And took me for a restful roam Did I see the tempting toy in Guy’s den. Now ground to a refueling halt, I skated to the highwaymen.
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
Just a Wooden Toy
Grinding along its age-old axis which knows of approaching death, The world pivots on a baby’s breath. The Rock beholds his baby as a plinth, Its lungs lamenting the loss of a leisurely labyrinth. Highwaymen hit the open road in rattling carriages, Bibbed and drooling with mouths welcoming meat wedges. In the mind’s meandering pathway And the incubator cot’s cold corridors, I sought to take away Routine’s rasp and all of its bores. No toy to be found. The whirling wheels left vapors On highway tracks, chafing the skin of tarmac like sandpaper. Only as the Old Bull lifted me from my minute home And took me for a restful roam Did I see the tempting toy in Guy’s den. Now ground to a refueling halt, I skated to the highwaymen.
travis-frank
Written by
Daejeon, South Korea
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
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