Thursday, November 18, 2010

Poem: Untitled verse for @beingtheo

the day lathered up

like dishpan hands

and the clouds

bump along

like a do do wah

or careless doodles

little salt shakers

just spillin snow

on unkempt neon

dreamin every instant

of the unruly night

but no never mind

they just bump along

with a fa la la

falling in line

like spectators


what comes next

but that’s

the trap

they get plump

and ponderous

when they should

move quick

like a hey you

or a shoop shoop

instead they

like to linger

but will not

approach or answer

if you say

come in

or try to

dry their eyes

with no birds

to carry them home

they just bump along

they just saunter by

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