Thursday, 1 October 2009


The heat becomes intolerable;
an indescript umbrella saturated
with anxieties, breath, blindness.

Open my smashed window,
the spirit releases thus.
Close the missing door,
promise me a trilogy!

The cauldron boils bats,
the kettle boils relaxation.
Empty their scaly preconceptions.

If this be travel,
my book must be
that blackboard shopping list.
An overgrown, white elephant.

I have become tired
in Pandora’s empty box
of forever. It stings

my scarlet eyes, dripping
with your reflection in
her mirror, ornately decorated
with leafy poison ivy.

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