Wednesday, January 16, 2013

grapevine

moral high ground on an inverted planet
impales me at gravity's will
the brain wanders

there is no breadcrumb trail
for the sitting ducks
to inhale

pigeons' wings slither against air
erupting beak volcanoes
full of erudite illocution

empty themselves! you warn
but we missed each other
the only point we ever intersected
we just were not very interested

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