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Untitled Poem I
The rafters creak like
old bones remembering what
little youth they have
left, lamenting their lost days,
musings taken by the wind.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Poem II
Your touch went from a
weather worn pebble
to a fleck of coarse velcroe
coming off as a prickly
pear with an axe to grind,
but I was content to clasp
your hands for a moment
longer, then simply nurse
my old wounds in due time
after I'd already forgotten
every syllable of your name.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Poem III
Sparrows haven't the
time for mourning doves and their
lachrymose piping.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Tercet I
I'm the unwitting moth and
you're the distant bonfire
coercing me to crash and burn.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Tercet II
By this verse of poetry,
I will the line of men to march
straight unto the noose's thread.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Quatrain
Give me a lover, a face to confide in,
give me a home with a rust-coloured siding,
give me a purpose yet hidden in view
then give me a sign that there's much left to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Musing I
Up until now, I'd never truly
looked at my hospital brace:
it's like a serpent consuming
its own tail, resembling the kind
of logic I'd always despised.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Musing II
Perhaps the most glamorous part
of any apocalypse, is that
one's life from before means nothing;
it's a clean slate, a fresh face,
whatever turn of phrase happens
to strike your fancy:
your status becomes invalid,
and your education becomes the
valuable commodity it was meant to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Stanza
White-washing the bitter sun
with a polymorphic resin,
a snare that travels like a
set of veins, then culminates
as a barbed wire bear-trap
worn like a bandolier
by a proud soldier...