September Poem 7: Black Feathers

Against the wall, I leaned. And a little

Man walked out. He wore a green felt robe of

Biting animals. Lifted his right arm

And opened his hand releasing a cloud

Of flies. There was a chorus spike as I

Realized my body was reacting. I

Was outstretched. The stucco against my back

Arms. A Greek chorus filed the room. Tammy

Was nowhere. And black feathers hung to like

Tassels. Morning flinched as the second world

Ate the daughters who’s soldier shuddered when

The strongest ship pulled up anchor and fled.

I felt my skin crawl from the sleeves, and I

Bowed broken to the audience of her.

April Poem 25: NaPoWriMo


Film making takes information like flowery script


To symbolize camera leaning cobwebs.


Postponement from the day pins hands


Played by reason that they can the wall doodles.


The white fancy looping of cherries


That look like the Haitian people.


Swarm squiggles over a crumpled audience


About the cultural witchdoctor.


The group of cursive has turned into an island.