waiting
in a room made
of paintings for the news
that day soon breaks to spill but not
on her
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Tag Archives: #cinquain
my bed
wakes unslept-in
thoughts crept in, unwelcome:
a dank stable of night horses
chewing
atom-
smashing central
ideas to glitter
no nuclear opinion seems
to glue
every
sand grain a cell:
little hourglass full
of malignancy: ill tidings:
half full
pounding
puddles to beats
with rhythmic feet, circles
concentrate themselves around her:
“Hey, Lo!”
unchurched,
i want to leave
behind red stainedglass blood-
light and discover the wilder
tree thorns
your eyes
impossibly
blue me like two daymoons
in a dream you wove with a glow
needle
(the pith
of which makes a little dream box
you can prick with a wish
and say goodbye
to blue)
mother
of the pearl caul
unslime my great bald head;
wrap me in too-golden towels;
food, please
Conc-shelled
Arpeggios
Outwardly ripple in
Sides of the centers of soft God’s
Eyes: “Wave!”
Dark cherub
Plucking her goat skin
Harp strings in time signatures
Banned before Day One plans to maintain
Mandorla:
Plays for play,
Scales spiteful notes: a culling lullsound
(Here falls one sleepy pilgrim):
Plays tones eternal,
Fingers prick
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