"disolutions" poems
No measure of hours,
day in, day out
cold fingers of mold damp
********* my nostrils
in cryptic drafts;
icy floor, ruthless
corpse-like and spongy
beneath my bare and distant feet.
Ghosts and apparitions
come in, go out,
visiting me, strangely urgent
mouths flapping fishlike
with alien sounds;
distorted humanities in
faces, groping for me;
less than the ticking of my heart
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC