Speaking the words,
Some heard, many split
vanished
banished by eye blinks
by doze of day after
pre-occupation
strangled mind
by puberty's aroma.
That clattering
is the undestructed mug
brimming myopic
check parcel, burning
barked hook of stumbling of tomorrow.
Go back, again speak:
word the ears, tug them.
Re-pave the streets of futility.
Re-cane the every-bearing berries.
Re-vine the trellis of tomorrow.
unfetter the irrepressible dint.
Chimneys on Rivoli
13 years ago