Sunday, August 15, 2010

A Piers Plowman

video
Traffic grows heavy
as days thin to their core.
A candidate promises
she'll do everything except change history--

I sit in front of a computer

dressed in a nightgown of reversible darkness

that slides across my shoulder,
watch you sweat pixels 

transported across a browser,
reassembled on my home page.

Listen to pine needles stir up the morning,
see fog outline the coast--
Still no state budget.
Emptiness catches me by its hand.
Canada geese plow trees overhead.

Lilac, periwinkle, and violet
with shades of ash. When I stare
at cactus on the patio,
color shifts from green
to a crinoline.

Outside I hear a cathedral
gone mad, bangles
on a woman's skull
like a torn shopping bag
stuffed with a mall.

I watch a leaf on a linden tree
loosen its grip.
File for unemployment.
Send an application online,
someone answer me.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Your right this is much better and I know that you will get your validation! D