Monday, January 10, 2011

Life is...

a dream wrapped in one's skin -
stage fright for dying in a scroll I rewrote.

time mistaken,
and looking awkward on my ceiling.

a source,
until dirges are dusted into the sea.

papyrus wings floating about the sun,
a spark screaming from a gutter.

will-frog hopping on my cell's floor,
a stranger among grown-up newborns...

exhausted by friends who passed on to the last laugh.

1 comment:

  1. On a lighter note, I can still see the quenching spark screaming from your guitar :)

    Hey did you get my email? Check your yahoo...

    ReplyDelete

Of Strange Material And Textured Dreams

Discarded objects can be equated to excavating them, an honorary act that imbues them with new life, and this is evident in the works of two...