flushed crownsteemCreated with Sketch.

in poetry •  7 years ago 

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open the skull and extract all the contents
no dream could conjure the visions that i saw next
a silence that proceeds after heaving yellow water
quite fascinated by the hay wain
it remains as always there when the bomb exploded
the unresolved troubled convent nuns all wept
i grip the final network of tubes that extend
such a brilliant morning when the black rain fell
all is far from still in the dissection lab
dressed and cheerful, the old lighthouse keepers glass eye
at all costs forcing him to keep kneeling
a train coming at you, a little too extravagant
erroded a vessel within you partly digested
an unblinking eye caught between fallen beams
a coldness that comes with the onset
of harsh and conflicting factory floors
in the final hours three sutras are chanted first
a spastic case like hair in a wet hand
to disguise the presence of an oddment
lurks beyond the final gasp a small drop of liquid oozes
a portion eaten mosquito specialist gathering information
sincerely and courtly magnified
a move towards the mornings pain index
my dog teeth in blossom
carry out such intentions with a debt of cowardice
written inside the back cover, but spread outwards
extract the unsuspecting prospective tadpole
seal violated, ganglias dotted, test the outlets
suspicions persist in a nest of owlets
mistaken diagnosis its not what you think
it clings to the cliffs with radiation sickness
dramatic light source, my wife was killed instantly
deceptive and calm, scissor snip
to look upon its face in endless forms in fear being stung
impromptu and urgent muscle fibers that power flight
foreboding structure never failed to greet me

so make the proper arrangements on widows hill

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