Weekend Words

Some words for you.

9/24/12

I am ill-suited for this type of fare.

I prefer the digestible reality

of fiction that presumes,

and this

is not conforming.

now I must remold,

and the surface is unforgiving.

I open a lunchbox of bombs.



That feels like not enough, so here is one more:

1/1/13

The first in motion was a moth,

a ghostly falling feather,

and where it lit,

dust covered the earth.

The land aged instantly,

and still the slow wings moved up

and down,

antennae circled in the empty morning,

blotting out signs of the sun.