Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Poem: Age

 

Age

 

wrinkles slither

over the desert of my skin.

so many beached eels

on a saggy road,

twitching in packs,

a seine no memory can evade,

not even a breath.

 

maybe i’ll try verbal cobwebs,

the art of weaving

creased old skin.

maybe i’ll hunker down

to crab-grip pens,

copying the mayhem

on my throat.





===============================

No comments:

Post a Comment