Tunnel me little shallow reefs in this trashcan sandbar's core. Blow away residing flora and fauna and boat out some shipwreck shack - a once pearly novelty's sketching, now only a disfigurement - that lacks most greenery of balled thought shells cut, prickled and halved. Inked coconut leaves glued back giving a paper sealife cemetery view. Pencil tips and grammer's disease feeds and scatters muck higher, surpassing medicine-man cures. Empty lead bottles plank walkways to a tattered Writer’s Book door blocked by Daily News critic clippings. Life-drained pens taped together forming tables with chairs decorate an inside bare of imagry, allure, or even rhyme. I cross the endless paper ocean to find words to fill them.
Lovers Never Tell · Thu Jul 24, 2008 @ 09:44am · 0 Comments |