Lifted from the sun, the chariot,
As if drawn in pencil,
Revved up, but in the end
Misspelled like the rest of us,
Graffiti ribbons obliged
On the abandoned brick,
The spare parts of a spring rain,
Like the eyes of an android dove
Butterflied into the cosmos.
naïve haircuts 
I really enjoyed this, especially “Misspelled like the rest of us” and “Like the eyes of an android dove”. Great work!
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Thank you! I feel like I can expand on this one. So maybe at some point I will have a longer version.
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A mechanised world, it feels. Such intriguing images. I especially like the first three verses.
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Thank you Worms! I feel like I can add more to this one. So maybe I will have a longer version at some time.
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I must admit, I am intrigued by your creative process. I look forward to seeing the longer version.
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love the image of the chariot revving up and that brilliant phrase ‘butterflied into the cosmos’ —
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Thanks John!!!!
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This is lovely. I enjoy the feeling of flight in this. Or transmutation from one material to another. And love the image of that wonderful last line!
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Thank you Sunra! Glad you enjoyed it.
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in my annoying habit of seeing so much, if not everything, through a baseball prism/prison, i love this, all of it!!….the “graffiti ribbons” remind me of Wrigley’s Ivy and “eyes of an android dove” the inevitability of robot umps and “butterflied into the cosmos” the possibility of a home run ball still soaring.
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I think it’s awesome to have baseball in your life in that way. It’s a great way to see world.
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