There once was a poem
Of which was spoken
Then taken away
Never to be heard of again
Jowl pressed against
Oven rack
Eyes placid
as a holy cow
Breathing whispered line
Giving
Taking life
Incantatory orbs sworn
Coursing forming
transfixing
The torpid
Into tor
One last time
One more
Poem
Hers
And hers alone
Conjured up rungs of rack
Her impromptu ledger
Bowed
By the weight the weight
Of galloping mouthed axes
Running full speed past
The rush the crush
Into the margins
A clever trick!
Gone from us
Handful of whitened knuckles
Inside usurped fist ******
******* no more
Open to the magnificence
She had had
All there ever was to be
For a time
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
There once was a poem
Of which was spoken
Then taken away
Never to be heard of again
Jowl pressed against
Oven rack
Eyes placid
as a holy cow
Breathing whispered line
Giving
Taking life
Incantatory orbs sworn
Coursing forming
transfixing
The torpid
Into tor
One last time
One more
Poem
Hers
And hers alone
Conjured up rungs of rack
Her impromptu ledger
Bowed
By the weight the weight
Of galloping mouthed axes
Running full speed past
The rush the crush
Into the margins
A clever trick!
Gone from us
Handful of whitened knuckles
Inside usurped fist ******
******* no more
Open to the magnificence
She had had
All there ever was to be
For a time
