This poem received 26 likes at Portland Review's online website, and after two months is still one of their featured offerings. Go see it there, along with two other poems of mine, if you like:
portlandreview.tumblr.com
Thank you for reading.
Owl
-----------------------
Patterns In Rotting Wood
gills, scabs, cuts,
cyrillics not found in vacua,
dark matter or nix.
fingernails, orts, hemidemi-
semiquavers,
brawl of apostrophes,
crows-feet circling
grandmothers’ chins,
duck/rabbit blitz,
codex of muzzles losing shape,
Ark’s freckle and Hyde.
kiss the wood,
hold hear scratch,
scent its zinc lichen—
trace the threads
Atropos snipped,
spiraling up a crush of graves,
obelisks and cairns,
amphoras and fonts,
quarrels flaking into palms,
fugitive from sloppy
kaleidoscopes.
who can decipher
this Rosetta of dull hells?
pick it up and it crumbles,
suicidal pantheon, into the fire.
----------------------------------------
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment