forlorn (20181028)

crow
in the yard
digs through trash
among words
i’ve tossed out

it finds one with still
a little life
plucked from the ashes
of other
dead phrases

i feel the crow disturb it
through a pulsing umbilicus
that runs across a cracked driveway
and fragrant rosemary
with impossible blue blossoms

it runs under the door

straight into my gut

the word throbs in his beak
like a thumb-size mass of organs
wrapped in a greasy membrane

he will unseam this word
tear out the stitches
pierce it with his black beak
devour the marrow

it will become his

it will become his word
and on his black tongue
it will be his song
as he rises from the ground

i throw rocks at him
my loud visitor
to scare him away from
the bins
but he eyes me with contempt
and with my hard work
in his glistening maw
he takes to the air

i do not
pursue

his feathers are so black
so very like the night
and this

paper is so

so

white

Day 15/30 of the Tupelo 30/30 Project (20170815)

unable to panic
when the jet fuel starts to burn….

——

Don’t stop now. Read the whole thing. My poem normalcy bias is available to read at the Tupelo 30/30 project page.

Note: I was made aware of the normalcy bias from a book (I’m listening to the audio version) titled You Are Not So Smart by David McRaney. I endorse this book, as well as his podcast.

Day 11/30 of the Tupelo 30/30 Project (20170811)

a lantern floats in a small bowl
a sandalwood scented candle burning
just outside the front door
you always liked lotus flowers….

——

Want to read more? You can. My poem ghost is available to read at the Tupelo 30/30 project page.

(This one is a bit late. Hope to have today’s poem up soon…)