Memory Assassin
Monday, 6 August 2012
False Moons
the juggler promises
stars galore, a trapeze
that opens above a trap-door.
happenstance conjures
a dark, dead moon
with the knowing flesh of a trout.
your eyes have grown
weedy and marbled,
boiled or baked—
God's mistake.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment