Monday, February 7, 2011

imagine that

you're flying above the clouds in the agonizing light
of a halo on the brow of a bullet-proof dove
bearing an olive branch straight for Noah's Ark
you're a blue lozenge cooling the sore throat of the sky

and i'm sitting here in the hail storm lonely as uranium
a piece of cast-off fiction yellowing on the street
one of the drowned ones spinning in turbulence
a swollen appendix about to rupture

I like to imagine us combusting all reason
praying in unison, prying the future apart

1 comment:

  1. Your poem to me could be lyrics for a very sweet, yet, thrilling love song.