Song of the Carpal Rust
I see
the radiation is rolling off my eyelids
right into the sclera
white to red
I can't remember how to pick grapes
with arthritis of the mind
going north towards
the wanderings of the crows
that found that the cows
have had all their ticks picked off their hide
with smiling teeth
so hiding from you
seems an appropriate situation
as the cacti gel makes the tongue swell with words
that have a prickly nature
the ice on the fence post makes
for a new religious icon
and breakfast is nearer to your derangement
of conformity
the hogs are rife with anticipation
as the sun hatches
new moles on your
soul
I see the contrast is too low
for this all to become an apparent
apparition to swallow
especially when everyone looks at the holes
in my hands
like they had a magical worm hole
to thinking correctly
anyway
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
