Saturday, August 14, 2010


Seeds germinating in this heat

The wet ground open

Beneath the cracked and pitted feet

Of a city bent on decay

Slow and clear

Like the bright sky

Like the bottle

Pouring fool’s words

Parting the teeth

Spouting insane protestations

Dry like summer dust

Blow off to the sea

You useless phrases

You dead brain cells

Turn under the muck

And churn up again

Become clouds

Return, better than you were