Fitzsimons Poems - Poems about Fitzsimons

I walked beneath the ribcage of a giant whale; Encapsulated in the briney entrails of an empty long-dead being. Its grimace echoed in these halls of boned wall, Of which calcite chambers temper; Sturdy glass upon the shores. Licked by lightning, hiding hints, Raking sand with combs of sea, Until I reached the portcullis, I was too afraid to breathe. From the bone, hung...

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Off-beat pulse, echoed heart to part, Separate slime of sweating art. Body but a corpus, corporal careless muck, Limbed flubber army legs lashing ‘gainst the yuck. Mind but memory in meld with melted vision pours, Trickles of tickled tactile tethers; ancient sores. A Gelphling gathers Skexy exorcism, Against a wizard’s litany of prism. “Some directions,” says I to me, “Not much to work...

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Mangled words and arcane diction, Are in fact my fiction, Artifacts: predilections, for attention and prediction....

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I see sun, I see sorrow, Mingled on the floor, A cracking egg, a knocked door, Mangled wealth and poor. I hear sound, I sometimes smell it, Synesthesia knows not whence, A response received to transmit sense. I feel proud, I feel pity, For what I cannot tell, Determine, please, what I should do: Be sick or kind of well?...

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Death to you, the same to me, As conscious is to soul: Undefined yet understood In broken words “to be.” Science seeks to word, the other, Self, but not the same, Parts unpaired from pairing smother, The claim in titles’ game. Religion boasts the word, the all, Of us, but also of the game, Parts too paired in pointed ball, Round yet square, in some by...

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