I
I read him with
toe in ear
and tap
on
there. Is
art – is not?
gratuitous
gore;
and eek ca-
daver? Nor
lacks whole
feather, poor
bunny or
wife;
for a dear
fest
of contrast.
II
Art I spy –
undeveloped eye:
unshut
and failing
in the dark.
I see a mind
in nailing
with a clock;
and it
will
stop.
III
But you return, you
corpse, in the moonlight;
in the gallows
of a cat’s throat.
It billows
– this mind –
with curtain
and sheet;
her sighs of
which
are weak.
And if I live:
you stale, Love,
in some bleak
ailment of the eye
– a film,
as blue as the breath
of morning dew –
and stare at me
from the livers
of lakes
or
penetrate
the dark.
very cool: excellent rhythm, imagery – and all the rest
H K 🙂 Thank you so much!
Nice layout for the read, I like the short line breaks, they make an even better read. Content is certainly Poe-like, a lot of movement going on here: a mind in nailing with a clock…and…livers of the lake. I’ll say ‘excellent’ too!
Nice that you remember me 🙂 Thank you for the positive comment!
As always… excellent piece Vicky