If on rooftops
I take inventories
of all the sour milk
brought to cups
it is because
I am not the kind
to turn my back
and examine only shelves
as they grow dusty
nor wrestle with
moths come to eat at slippers
but rather to
tell of the seizures
or the woman eating stolen bread
on the stairwell
while the promise of holidays
and the songs from films
unaccountably costly
sucker on all the trees
good poem; the germ of something great here
ReplyDeletewow! astonishing!
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ReplyDeleteFirst a bit stymied by the final lines...I've got it now. Terrific, Claine. :)
ReplyDelete...and it may be, as Robbie said, germinating.
DeleteYes I know the final lines are a bit difficult as they are. Perhaps I will edit it at some point. I was very tired last night when I wrote it. I spend about 15 mins at the most writing a poem and it is often written at the end of a busy day. I do however trust the process that results in a work and I rarely edit.
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