The Secret of Her Clothes
by Michael R. Burch

The secret of her clothes
is that they whisper a little mysteriously
of things unseen

in the language of nylon and cotton,
so that when she walks
to her amorous drawers

to rummage among the embroidered hearts
and rumors of pastel slips
for a white wisp of Victorian lace,

the delicate rustle of fabric on fabric,
the slightest whisper of telltale static,
electrifies me.

Published by Erosha, Velvet Avalanche (Anthology) and Poetry Life & Times

Keywords/Tags: clothes, lingerie, nylon, cotton, amorous, drawers, slips, lace, static, electricity, mystery, mysterious

i saw a ghost
between the commercials
in the middle of the night
and for a moment
i couldn't hear anything
except the static

My days are filled with a sense of nostalgia
for those that haven't happened yet and
longing for days gone by.

Bouyed by an effervescent iridescence
anchored to the shore of
absurd accusations
vital to self-realizations manifesting
into a festering static buzzing
                                                    to
                                                        no
                                                            end.

that is entitled:
Adapting to AI Intuition,
or
On assuming the role of the
non-resistant force
suggesting
be still and know

you do

This is entitled the poem you just
read,
one way or another.

Static
------
A mixture of
Coloured pixels
Combining to make
Grey
--Uncertainty--
Vibrating from ear
To ear
Pulsing through
My mind and heart
        -- why--
A colourful mess
That I both comprehend
Yet
Yet....
It's still a mess to
--Compreh  -end--
Each pixel seemingly
Jagged
-- No -
.
.

Stillness
Just the usual static
Except
In the wrong place
At the wrong time...

Mirrors and islands
Mirrors and islands
are all that I see

And the static fills my mind
eats it up like silence

It hums a constant note
glaring in and out
audible, barely
deafening.

The static fills my mind
and devours everything beneath it

I woke up this morning
And when I felt stomach pain
I hoped my kidneys were failing

When I went to sleep last night
I had hoped that would be the last time
I would have to close my eyes

I rewrote all my letters
Slid them into their envelopes
And sealed them

I cleaned up my room
And thought about what people would think
About the quotes and art on my wall

I gave up on
keeping track of how many times
I swallowed those white pills

I walked through my brother’s room
Looking at the facades
he so carefully tacked on his walls

When I woke up this morning
I just laid back down
When I realized I was still alive

I can’t even manage
To properly **** myself
****, I’m pathetic

As I rode my bike this morning
I looked up at the stars
And I started to tear up

All I could see
Was an empty sky
The stars have become static

I wish I hadn’t woken up this morning