"swiftbomb" poems
The sprinting clouds ignore the cries
like clockwork, forming mushroomed plumes
and knowing only how to move,
they do: drift on, drift on, drift on.
Not caring what a kindness does,
forgetting how to stop and stare,
and knowing only how to move,
they do: drift on drift on drift on.
Thus deafened, keen to blindly steer,
a levitating orb survives
from knowing only how to move.
It does: swiftbomb swiftbomb swiftbomb.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 11:55 AM UTC