Feste's Lute

Scribbles & Sketches of the Unspeakable

Tag: cut-up

Real Pens Pivot (never glide)

We wile our betters.
This debtor gone crawling,
we juggle.
We wile away the halls.
We’ll mutter things
and ne’er be done
crawling safer posts
for offal.
We’ll wile, our ears gone wide.
Wile our gun safety,
juggling awful.
We’ll mutter things while away.

At a Turn

Beligerence —
Atmospheric kōans belying
artifice-spaced isolation
sunk.
Label-leaving shrink
wish-washed on warm.