Your Elbow on a Car-Edge, Incognito As Summer
Draws me near to wonder
how grief
alters your wolf’s grin.
"The world’s a stage." No one
doubts the princess weeps for the king’s
death (divined by the chorus), falls for
the conquering lord.
Grape, apple, citrus, tea
these trinities of
nitrogen, phosphate, and sugar
scribe
a chronicle histone-wound
like the Mahabharata.
Lyrics and melody
preview the roles we play
shooters and callers, dealers and spenders
the charmed ropes
unspooling.
wow! i love when a poet does so much with so few words and really works of the white space :) Thanks for sharing. Favorite part is the princess.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jessie. Great to have you as a reader.
ReplyDelete