Sunday, November 21, 2010

Shadowy Salvation at Rest in Transit

The fluted profile that greys in shadow
over the imaginary Ionic column,
who sighed at sin for grinning over
the rumble of cracked macadam,
he utterly changes every time
the light bulb flickers in the creepy breeze.

The roar of the glasspacks is the wet fiction
that has been prophesy
in your purple tense of every instant instant
that might never even happen,
not unless in a thinly minded white conrer
just behind the flowered pantry door.

You're in good hands, he said,
it's only the squeak of a mouse.

12 comments:

  1. Thanks, Gerry. I liked that one.

    PG

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  2. Your in good hands, he said,
    it is only the squeak of a mouse.

    gentlemen, your work rocks.
    keep it up.

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  3. @Old 333: Thanks my good man.

    @Jingle: Much obliged ma'am.

    PS: Fixed an egregious typo.

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  4. Wet fiction reached out and grabbed me.

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  5. ah, my pet
    from here
    you're howlin'
    smoking hot
    in your type
    of scribe.on
    scripts
    that flip me out
    "in a good way"
    xo
    always great to see you my friend. :)

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  6. @willow: yes, that was the key phrase.

    @Izzy: your comment is better poetry than the post. Ha!

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  7. Very well crafted..!!
    keep Writing My Dear.. :)

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  8. Greetings!
    How is everything?
    Are you interested in theme writing? Do have poems related to dreams, visions, or reveries?
    If YES, welcome linking your poems to our potluck week 13 at Jingle
    Poetry : http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/
    Even if your answer is no, you are more than welcome to link in old poems, or poems unrelated to our theme (dreams, visions, or reveries) and enjoy the fun of sharing and encouraging!
    Our week 13 potluck is open Sunday, 8pm, American Central Time…We will be thrilled to see you in…
    Let me know if you have questions
    xoxox

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  9. @olivia: cheers. What poem is not a reverie?

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  10. he utterly changes every time
    the light bulb flickers in the creepy breeze.

    Like nightmares...

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Yes?