Wednesday, February 15, 2012



Penultimate feelings of non-belonging.
A moustache of yesterday’s affair.
A frown on tomorrow’s face.
Or none to consider.
Chapters, paragraphs, orders unknown.
Quail pens scribbling in black,
smudged papers and fingers.
Raising eyebrows, unexpected foils.
Pen and paper pour… the end.

No comments:

Post a Comment