apart from the decay

Written by: nathan martin

  an old shed leans crookedly in the tall 

  a door is lifted and opened.

 like a warn vinyl record to the needle 
rusty hinges 
snap and crackle as they turn.  

  between slight variations in tone metallic
yesterdays speak through hinged lips. 

i am apart from the decay they say.

now little is inside except some dust with 
 few oddities scattered around.

 a dented paint can that had been knocked 
the paint lieing on the floor in a puddle. 

   dried and splintered out in an ornate 
 in shades of dark yellow.

it seems to innocent and pure for its 

the paint speaks through its flat chipped 
throat lowly.

 i am apart from the decay it say's.

  outside the sun overhead has learned

  to speak in parables but the dandilions

  dont seem to mind.