Garage Sale

A well-kept bike, a stack of poems in disarray.
What if these poems really did mean something?
How terrifying!

~

The books on the fridge, I’ll get to them soon. After a walk and a few more months of procrastinating. I’ll write poems too. Small ones, by an open window. The moon like a dog licking a plate.

~

Mirrors reflect, yes, but they
Don’t know left from right.

~

A tee
Shirt
Upended
By love.

The unsettled
For a nest.

The universe
Makes for funny haircuts.

~

To sit quiet and remember
The shadows of the heart,

A sea above the stars,

Till you are nothing more
Than a memory yourself,

Till you are at sea
And above the stars.

~

Metaphors undone.

Purposely forgot. An amnesia of flowers.

A calligraphy
Of absence.

The pigeons downtown
Are the last of the angels

In rock colored coats.

~

These unknowns!

With blue songs in their feet,
As or husked brains squeal like throbbing beheaded nuts,

And the blue ears of the moon
Tremble with the arson of love.

 

2 thoughts on “Garage Sale

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