deepundergroundpoetry.com

77

I am this crumpled cover sheet crushed and creased
Wooden headrest wooden buddha wood floor boards
Yesterday’s bitter coffee today's dinner half eaten
A screen flickering intermittently
A murmuring screen in the corner

A muslin hanging from iron hooks and taut wire
A book well thumbed unopened and discarded as untrue

I am landing light through the door and light shade
Light on the home-stitched patchwork at my feet
My beads the cross on my heart clavicle scapula
We become what we have half-seen
Seek - have touched and I offer this

A flaxen head dreaming on my shoulder gently
Breathing in long beats by which I measure my days.
whale
Written by whale
Published
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