the scrolls stare back like a shopfront windowwhere the mannequins wear my metaphors, price tags swinging from their wrists.
You didn't shake their wrists,
but I saw it nonetheless—
tags fluttering away like pale,
misunderstood butterflies.
.
Deeply tectonic, earthenware heirlooms, Pluto beyond empty layers of that same misunderstanding, it seems to me?
peace, pot, tequila shot
Jesus loves us, stoned or not
the scrolls tilt on their shelves as the ground shifts, glass trembling with the weight of heirlooms and wings; beyond the frost line, a small planet turns, its orbit tugging at the tags that rise like butterflies fleeing wrists of stone.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver
Deeply tectonic, earthenware
Deeply tectonic, earthenware heirlooms, Pluto beyond empty layers of that same misunderstanding, it seems to me?
peace, pot, tequila shot
Jesus loves us, stoned or not
the scrolls tilt on their
the scrolls tilt on their shelves as the ground shifts,
glass trembling with the weight of heirlooms and wings;
beyond the frost line, a small planet turns,
its orbit tugging at the tags that rise
like butterflies fleeing wrists of stone.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver