Thickair Blog

little earthquakes
persist
as though invoked
never knowing whether my temple
will fall
recently killing the pigeon with shovelbacks
and domestic wildlife watching
the shudder of its last breath
surging through the instrument
to my hands
twice in one week
blood on my hands
blankets are not warm enough
in this tropical thunder
quiet, jellied love
quivers inside
rolling concrete
a raft
on soil seas
reaching for grounding

This entry was posted Monday, July 6th, 2009 at 10:08 pm and is filed under Mind Matters. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.