deepundergroundpoetry.com
Trailer in the Red Lakes
Ghost, haunt my return to the
Red lakes with linoleum shores.
A trailer park fresco mosaic;
Capsules and glass of the potions.
Fluorescents, as night cicadas,
Lulling me slowly into the untold.
Your hands are cold, take me away
Red lakes with linoleum shores.
A trailer park fresco mosaic;
Capsules and glass of the potions.
Fluorescents, as night cicadas,
Lulling me slowly into the untold.
Your hands are cold, take me away
Published 19th Jan 2023
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Anonymous
19th Jan 2023 10:38am
This is a such a perfect example of a stream of consciousness. I love the lingering sense we are left with at the end without the full stop to hold us back. Really found this beautiful.
19th Jan 2023 5:30pm
