Thursday, April 22, 2010

just bobbing around

the air bears water
for the feathers to preen
the reflections fragment
into wandering winds
the broken-boned breeze
is a bending stream
of thoughts from the voice
long nestled in me
there is no dead fruit
in my trashcan’s teeth
there are no flies
that fuck in the furrows
and flee like careless clouds
when the weather is welcoming

No comments: