Thursday, April 15, 2010

Sonnet 50: Morning Primordial

By Aurin Squire

Me popsicl'ed under green flower spread
Turning over, even my blue freeze tan
Pipes mute choked by dead finger lead
Basement boiler coughed winter in a can.

Cracked ribs xylophoned cross wood crucifix
Head twist like a red devilsans green soup
Me lay holy hands on pipes still unfix,
Hibernate metal bears jumbled in group.

Spread cheeks and winny a high-pitched sharp gas
mumble, stutter, shuffle to the water.
Mirrored down me face and gave it a pass
Dark shroud on city, 6 pass a quarter.

Open mouth and let out a growly sing.
Good Morning primordial functioning.

No comments:

Dispassionate Dialogue about our Democracy on the 4th of July

  Dispassionate dialogue. In high school debate we were taught how to engage in dispassionate analysis and conversation, aka removing my emo...