Yeomen poets might be intimidated, the editors apparently at rest, but from what I know, none of the above, then a teeter-totter, a twix yet twain, what about the balance, a suspension of motion, a leveling of circumstance wherein Art is not history, Art is the future, a sculpture: two people, neither up nor down, eye to eye --level in suspended animation, a supra-balance this. At the exclusion of the news, better never bitter dreams, possible because you said so, as well as an identification of dilemma, last line paragraph six, the faster cure to ennui, is to get out there and play, or stay inofdoors, working with clay. Outofdoors, a bright blue/black nesting jay, his color, a summer day. White billowed cloud feathers too, nearby, a wire-perched dove, say
coo; again and again and again, the ice to water, the wine at room. The thread raveling upon the loom.

Views: 30

Comment

You need to be a member of Our Salon to add comments!

Join Our Salon

NEW BLOG POSTS

Hooking up on BS

Posted by Robert B. James on June 24, 2019 at 7:47am 5 Comments

Just a Little Too

Posted by Doc Vega on June 24, 2019 at 1:39am 0 Comments

Water View II

Posted by koshersalaami on June 23, 2019 at 3:00pm 11 Comments

The Merlin Of BindleSnitch

Posted by Robert B. James on June 23, 2019 at 7:07am 7 Comments

Old Soft Shoe (POEM)

Posted by J.P. Hart on June 22, 2019 at 1:00pm 4 Comments

I saw one Mountain Lion

Posted by Robert B. James on June 22, 2019 at 8:00am 3 Comments

© 2019   Created by lorianne.   Powered by

Badges  |  Report an Issue  |  Privacy Policy  |  Terms of Service