me to speak
things you already know...
three dots at the end of my lines...
do not make me a poet
when I parse lines I
pay no attention to the ana
tomy of words
but to what shape they may take
in my mind...
what is this shape
who is the lady next door
who screams my name from the fire-escape-
night-after-night...
what book of answers...
what a story...
what an ellipse...
(pic is from the NASA gallery... a moon of Jupiter... I think they said it was Europa...)
5 comments:
whether they are false or true
they just keep breaking through
line them up fat or lean
on paper or on a screen
words are what humans do
moon struck
by the shaping of words
scream(s)
fire
escapes
what a story
this is
a haunting
justapose
powerful and beautiful; thank you
Beautfull text, we can call it the eclipse-ellipse. Wha a mistery does poetry create.
timmy, Harlequin, Mariana,
thanks for stopping by and saying hello... will catch up with you here or on your blogs again soon
I have a certain miss Wandering Savant who questions (rightly so as my editor of choice) my punc...
tu,
ation.
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