deepundergroundpoetry.com

Tower road

summers' impatience squirms in its' seat
during the end of the first act
throwing squeals at the stage
from the back of the aisle.

2. The last few days have rolled in
spotty showers, off the back of June's owl.
The frogs sacrifice themselves under the spell
of perspiring electrons, dashing ecstatic suicide
across the lonely road bearing its name, from the
tower that sits midway down its length.

3. Under the tower, in an old farmhouse
the lovers scrape the underbelly of the moons
mistletoe, into milk chocolate. Sandalwood bur
rows a bassline under the copper kettle, so the
brew can proceed, essential oil of emerald.

4. The rains gave way to the glycerin sweating
dynamite, of the foothills to July's furnace. The
miser has snuck into yesterday's pantry and bedding
rendering that day dead to lazy. Today the joyish fool
returns home after a decade's slumber, exorcising
the sleeper through the pores of the trails, that
weave themselves out from the end of Tower Road.
Written by lightbaron
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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