<! -- =template_poem.html========= start results template ========== -->
Published on: 9/23/2013
I peek through a petrified warming screen of light rain
To discover a loose thread,
Hanging from the age-defiant closet door and
Resting on sound-coated air
Of bizarre familiarity
Akin to a morning of wheat shreds
Poorly heated by the trembling hands
Of my grandma
After a night of knitting
Deformed creations of love
Packed and stamped
In a deserted postal office.
Published on: 9/20/2013
I'll never win a staring contest
with a boisterous propane lighter.
Published on: 9/18/2013
I spelunked my ice-crusted backpack
For that elusive fugitive of a receipt,
The receipt for the purchase of me
And the closest article to a birth certificate.
Like the ephemeral life of an apoptotic snowflake,
My chances of returning my life to
The palpitating universe withered
Like a coffee-crusted receipt in
The remnants of a dust-worthy ash tray.
Published on: 9/16/2013
lands on its feet and
<! -- =template_poem.html========= end results template ========== -->