Corvus Breakdown
there’s no face appearing in the window
as I stare through the whiskyfalls
of the sun made of cucumbers
that ticks in my sternum like a deathwatch
so where’s my sagacity? –
– lost somewhere in the pink furry mirrors
hearkening ill, weirdly and sinister
baffled from holding itself a hostage
running wild in the power sockets
the same inside out in the eye sockets
crying out loud from the acient books
of lamentations
and corvus breakdowns
Copyright © William Greco | Year Posted 2017
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