Little birds pecking the grass at twilight
Hopping your little birdy hops, do the
Insects come out as the light fades, or is
It just more intimate to share a meal
In candle light at the little Italian place
On the corner? The place with the smell of
Parmesan that has been hung in old gym
Socks. The place that is so dim that you can’t
Tell if what they served is spaghetti in
Red sauce or just a plateful of dead worms.
A Desiccated Heart
A desiccated heart
The tool of the patriarchy
Bringing down symbols in the trees
Text messages in the reliquary
Bringing down the gates
Cracking the iron bands
The heart a ghostly rose
Trembling in the temple
Of the black demon
Amid the carnage
Sated on the hill
Carrion beasts in full repose
A sputter of movement
Arose flapping wings
You spent your whole life absent
Alone in your chair facing the void
I chiseled our initials
On the hangman’s tree
Dead Woods
A well centered in a dead wood
Where ravens come to peck the eyes
Of the children floating in the tepid waters
The Wraith of Road 348
3 miles down
Under the lightning split elm
Tattered rags
Flapping the breeze
The wraith of Road 348
The Chugging Machine
The chugging machine
Sulfur and smoke
The building rose
Phantom scented seraphim
Bringing Truth to modernity
A Raven’s Cry
A raven’s cry
The clay bricks
Baked in the sun
Reclaimed by nature
Destroyed but replaced
Mineralized as fossil
Bubbling Acid
Dissolved tissue
A white steam frothing
A rose in the bowl
Of bubbling acid
Tearing away your breath
Graham was cleaning the coo coo’s nest.
He pushed out accomplished,
And climbed today’s WordPress.
Three White’s tree frogs
On one south of Florida branch
Ridding the winds of Hurricane Matthew
Far wiser than the alternative
I kept thinking about spiders
Painting their best
Riding their webs
Down from the branches above me.
And what was I doing
Standing in the ass
Of the majestic?
Bosch mad dogs,
Wished poof,
Andiron, Umbel leaf,
Hunger games exams,
Already entitled flicks.
I lumber past full classrooms
Sniffing for ripe berries.
I try to claw tree bark from
The bench in the hall
To pick grubs from their burrows.
I try to lick lines of termites
From the painted brick walls
I like the way they bite my
Lips as I chew. I want to
Gorge myself on fresh trout,
But the only thing streaming
Down these halls are other
Students that ready themselves
To sleep through the bleak days
Of ten page reports
And last minute cram sessions.
We are bear so we can
Hibernate through finals
And wake up in the workforce.
Inspiration and Spirituality **Award Free**
stories about English language and people in Asian communities in America and in Asia.
therichardbraxton 