Telephone poles
thrown in stitches
across the never-ending blanket
-- that you stopped following somewhere
after an indie rock concert. The pattern that gavels crusades
on segmented streets--loss balance
bookshelves. Times when tongue-tied families test the lengths
of rapture and abundance,
both mouths tired and one eye black--a sock monster. A dog outside barking
and lists,
and lists,
and lists,
and so on.
All this while you watch the tide fall and rise.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 12:49 PM UTC
Telephone poles
thrown in stitches
across the never-ending blanket
-- that you stopped following somewhere
after an indie rock concert. The pattern that gavels crusades
on segmented streets--loss balance
bookshelves. Times when tongue-tied families test the lengths
of rapture and abundance,
both mouths tired and one eye black--a sock monster. A dog outside barking
and lists,
and lists,
and lists,
and so on.
All this while you watch the tide fall and rise.
