deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wiggle Room
I'm drinking the milk
Of the moments pure peace,
Pieces of self floating
In a tall milkshake,
A cow stolen in the nights
Stygian cave of twilit life.
The jerk around's
Left bones dangling
In thin spaces
Of forgotten voids.
Clearance of this runway
Ran away with the spoons
Past Mars and Milky Ways
Bleak black basement holds;
Jersey never looked so good
As the wood of fir trees at Yule.
The touchstones lost
Last time standing
Was first time walking
Learning Libra isn't fair.
Of the moments pure peace,
Pieces of self floating
In a tall milkshake,
A cow stolen in the nights
Stygian cave of twilit life.
The jerk around's
Left bones dangling
In thin spaces
Of forgotten voids.
Clearance of this runway
Ran away with the spoons
Past Mars and Milky Ways
Bleak black basement holds;
Jersey never looked so good
As the wood of fir trees at Yule.
The touchstones lost
Last time standing
Was first time walking
Learning Libra isn't fair.
Published 24th Apr 2022
Author's Note
Image from pixabay
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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