deepundergroundpoetry.com
...
This has been
the very theft
of all the pens in my house
Words wilt bereft
as I heave them
heftily
unsteadily
nothing is deft
& nothing is left
only other worldly trackings
& traces to dead ends
& and paces to dead ends
& facing these dead ends
Another pretentious waste
of space
& a pale blue line
the very theft
of all the pens in my house
Words wilt bereft
as I heave them
heftily
unsteadily
nothing is deft
& nothing is left
only other worldly trackings
& traces to dead ends
& and paces to dead ends
& facing these dead ends
Another pretentious waste
of space
& a pale blue line
Published 30th Nov 2017
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30th Nov 2017 12:52pm
yet those blue lines still flow to art
water the theft and grow
these words are not lacking
the thoughts are just stacking
climb those ideas
and ride the 300 foot sail
on the blade of a knife
as an elevator going down
you were the thief all along
at sea there is no dirge
water the theft and grow
these words are not lacking
the thoughts are just stacking
climb those ideas
and ride the 300 foot sail
on the blade of a knife
as an elevator going down
you were the thief all along
at sea there is no dirge
30th Nov 2017 9:45pm
"only other worldly trackings
& traces to dead ends
& and paces to dead ends
& facing these dead ends
Another pretentious waste "----------[w]rite on,,,,yr my kind of gal
& traces to dead ends
& and paces to dead ends
& facing these dead ends
Another pretentious waste "----------[w]rite on,,,,yr my kind of gal
