01-28-2022, 09:48 AM
These aren't the ruins of me. I'm not interested in my poems at all. It's the Thing. The alien thing I'm riffing off of.
Solitaire
Witch's hat
has become a dunce cap,
periphery removed.
Gregarious cone lifted nowhere.
Gone as the seasons.
Broken,
eager and invalid,
sorcerer
places apple on stump
waiting on lightning,
spark connection