orgami's Diaryland Diary

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jure

dirty counter
the paper screams
the black and oil
seeping through

thumbtack tracks
the library askew

If I could ask you
theres nothing we
cant tell

like the dull blade
that tears
the tap that leaks

here night press up
against my fears
when Im curled in
the furrow of a
distant dream
and the wind is a wretch
the wood pile was
looking for me
waiting for you

this burgeoning dusk
climbing
hauling her carpetbagger
mix on her mizzen mast

and the lanterneers
are sneering
hauling in the prize
on salted hooks
and aura feild garment
pronouncements

and the night is deep
with mercy sorrows
with hearts with clockwork
worry broken

and how I wish
I not pretend
that so much
now was then
depended

2:23 a.m. - 2010-12-26

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