"semicircular" poems
There's a huge bean bag in the corner
the color of rusted tree
and a white painted outline to hold two drawers
of colorful condoms next to the Keurig Machine.
Three circular winded fanciful lights strung above,
shedding semicircular splotches on the walls.
Looking out on the Brooklyn Bridge in the 1893
painted on in black and grey haunts.
There's a magnetic pillar to the left of the too-deep chairs
that at least are comfortable,
but no one has legs that long.
A magazine rack to the right lends a variety of color, from
Love Match to Lavender, it's a mismatch island.
Smells like plastic and a cold air, with a hint of college sweat.
And there's the squeaky roller chair full of business textbooks and drawings of pigeons and bitten fingernails and arms that lead to the edges of the paper.
Masked with worn All Star sketchers and three clocks ticking,
Long labored skies and horcruxes gathered round the edges.
Yet somehow with all the oddities combined,
it's safe and sound under the flag including.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 4:03 PM UTC
The Chapel was lighted by round-headed windows,
Furnished with most heavenly pictures, lively in colours …
… until 1845
Completely defaced and quite plain,
A few fragments of ancient glass remain,
Once a ****** and child,
Once the altar of Our Lady of Pity,
Once a great black marble platform of the Lady Altar
… until 1845
Now it’s plain table tombs of blue marble,
depressed semicircular arches,
several grave slabs and pale yellows,
And Bishop Langley,
with his coffin and bones three feet below the floor
… until 1845
The Chapel was lighted by round-headed windows,
Furnished with most heavenly pictures, lively in colours …
… and destroyed.
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 2:14 PM UTC