I’m beginning to think that Spontaneous Generation works. Next time I see an ox horn on the ground, I’m looking for asparagus.
Sure, I can have that for you by Friday.
Went a little crazy with the enjambment on that last one. Not that it’s anything new, but it should be a little better now. Hopefully.
The vandals embarked.
Their course
set fire to our skies.
It arced across
the night,
an ad for endings,
a signboard with shackles
and stock proclamations.
So assailed, we
inspected our riggings
and re-painted our figurehead
with dreams.
Our bravos still echo,
a Victor’s horizon ahead.
There’s nothing original, blah blah blah… but I’m beginning to grind my teeth every time I see a lowbrow portrayal of a girl in “dio de los muertos” makeup.
I have 7 left (Bravado 4, Carpet 4, Effervescent 8675309, Wish 7, Sleep 4, Empyreal 3, and 78250920). I’ll probably do a few a day in that order till they’re finished. Seems like 4 is a popular number. :p
Her hardened plea
had risen, mad,
from masks
that strapped on
sidearms.
A skewer in her
conscience grew
like bamboo
it thrust her past
the plaster-wrapped
admissions.
It’s no one’s fault.
Our surging thoughts
were grasslands,
born up in dawn’s
hazy eyes.
Each crevice filled,
each parcel dense
with eglantine and
ornaments
of our bold Nature’s
exploration.
Soft irises unfolded
in our shade.
Feste's Lute 