wisps of escaping tea
Thursday, September 29th, 2011A porcelain cup
with a few sips of herbal
tea cooled by degrees.
• • •
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A porcelain cup
with a few sips of herbal
tea cooled by degrees.
• • •
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The sorceress had
nothing to wear but black, which
screamed “I’m a downer.”
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They lurk behind vines,
in lowly patches, under
piles of hay. Orange beasts.
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Who left all these dead
leaves in the yard, on the car
and in the gutter?
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What should have been and
what is, an ever-changing
series of letdowns.
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The patient patient
endured the chemicals and
harsh radiation.
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All eyes stared at the
two teen boys on the sidewalk,
in fear and wonder.
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We learn so much from
crazy, stupid, immature
choices. Hopefully.
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Tires crush puddles
to make little tsunamis
along flooded streets.
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The screams of budget
bloodshed and staff slashings knife
through hallways of ghosts.
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Handing out trophies
is harder than it looks when
actors, flaks watching.
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The lost shepherd walked
the road to enlightenment
when he found a fork …
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They clawed and stole to
achieve power, finding the
rewards less than sound.
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Looking out over
the world, he found the top to
be a lonely spot.
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The gods of rock found
their stolen souls matted and
framed for mere gawkers.
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