Wednesday, February 10, 2016

tear down



On Tearing Down The Shed

In the end nothing more
    than backdrop for daylilies

rakish
                in a mossy fedora

         gouty with accumulation
                                             snakes

in my imagination

             flicker out like filament glow
       when I stamp

               my feet in the threshold
                                                   peering

through grandpas legs

                     into black vacuum

            breathless
in the mouth of the unsealed tomb.

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