Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.143.24.174

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

the air in the skull is stale
not ready yet to be noticed on sight
or seen
as anything but a question mark

submerging in a fish bowl
of watching
reconnoitering
feeling around the margins
where the walls
are as porous as tissue paper

lids crank open
let it come
let it go
it being an ocean

on this small planet
one has to save as much space as possible
40 acres is hard won
easily lost

where did the warm dark oblivion go
said the question mark

the sky in the leaden head is clearing
all but the thinking is shrinking
down
  to a spot, 
a dabble of words in a pond

a mule brays in ohio

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required