deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Sixth Circle
Holding up three fingers,
all but the ends
shouting, "Read between the fucking lines!"
I look sideways at them,
folding in on their own crisp air bubble.
They are facing away
towards a lanky slit of gas.
Maybe it's a tree.
They don't notice us,
it could be a rouse
but I'm told we're safe.
I look at my thumb
and try to remember
what matters.
all but the ends
shouting, "Read between the fucking lines!"
I look sideways at them,
folding in on their own crisp air bubble.
They are facing away
towards a lanky slit of gas.
Maybe it's a tree.
They don't notice us,
it could be a rouse
but I'm told we're safe.
I look at my thumb
and try to remember
what matters.
Published 30th Jan 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 718
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
