Bring a mop to clean
the slop from bad tidings
Memories of splendor
Fine gold shavings on napkins
beaming with tellings
Ashen lards bring malice
of cobs farther from home
A place most loathsome
Bright squared linens
folded atop the cabinet
looming on the edge of vision
A heart of bold delicate drawings
assigned to keep myself whole
Pedestrians pass by
roaming between signposts
wrapped with silk smudge curtains.
YOU ARE READING
Dumping Grounds
PoesíaSometimes when you are dumping your mind, poetry arises. In this anthology, travel with me to dreamy places or the dark corners of my mind, perhaps invoking the writer in you. I hope these pieces speak to you in some way as they have to me. Dumping...
