977
the nod
a day to say nothing
my job is done
they could cut out my haircut
and hang it here
they've already cut out my tongue
but I can still make hyperbole
let's get real
here are the pages we wade
drone to troll, enthuse
when I am asked, agree
waltz in from
each of us is born with a time zone
times should be tattooed on foreheads to show
someone kept a gate
and fed it on failures
deadpan habitus
plus sometimes sneer
the years of being there are gone
rain steadies the heat
outside
snail the size of a city sails past
a little counter-tenor outburst for ambiance
I give away the bride
I give the nod for free
Yay! I'm glad for this particular marriage. Ha.
ReplyDeleteis as good as a wink
ReplyDeleteperchance the tenor cries
ReplyDeletea snail walks
the razor blade
the rain burned
we were fed
on failures
the nod asks
for its return