Still Life For Words In G Major
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From the anthology, Complaining to the Clock, a work in progress.
Still Life For Words in G Major
Our slippery searching years peel away,
From a central pulsating rind beating fast,
Which glistens like a deep sky beam of green fire,
Emitting unseen filaments with tiny balls of sap,
Crowning their peaks with a watery white bulb,
of time mixed with multitudes of naked mirrors;
Our unique human voices swim now in cloudy rivers
Like fish that have been thrown back after the hook,
Old dead friends haunt me as the stars outside
Continue their eternal dust dances in the dark,
They shake my hand as they manifest bodily,
With youthful stubborn ardor and unwrinkled skin,
To past minutes and forgotten hours,
Now digested like last night’s roast left on the stove,
By dead friends now holding flowers in a sullen graveyard,
That big green obscenity splashed with naked sun,
Peeling away from the core, the central pulsating rind,
The inner turning eye of the subcutaneous heartbeat.
Copyright © Stark Hunter | Year Posted 2019
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