Saturday, June 24, 2017

Stuart Rawlinson #57 - Dot Dot Dash

the anchor's broken
sternum hardly
straightens any ripple
trawl the shallows
for a certain depth
full steam ahead

hang it all
out
keep
the metre
baggy
keep
the meaning
flimsy
in case
the rip
tears more
than a page
and
the line
won't reflect
zirconium
thoughts

the building will rise
without a scaffold
hangs itself
on its own
plastic beams
eyeless burning houses

shout in the dark
ignore the moon
holding spheres
defying physics
curtail
sentiment
slice design
poem in morse
coded gibberish
pictures for words
dot dot dash
hieroglyphs
in sand

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