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Word Hole
"moonlight on the snow slips in sideways
dreamlike
a dollhouse in a boxcar rolling south,
wandering too long, the cold saddens"
I am talking to myself, but the cats are sane
I huddle under 60 watts of halo
like a cop interrogation of the 50's
and the world as we know it
disappears into
the cropped
dark
edge
word games begin
re-assembling lies
deep I slide (so the scenario goes)
cursing my way downward
spitting torches from a gin soaked cigar
(* note: find a new Charlton Heston)
but, this is no rabbit hole child's play
a master spelunker, I am
at home on the
hard
rock
bottom
I wriggle on my belly
scrawling cave art
and wisdom
in pitch, tar
and typewriter ribbon
a harrowing pilgrimage
I barely survive
but in the end
fame, fortune,
and the fabulous
await
a gorgeous
Hollywood-styled
arising
my cats aren't buying a word of this either
they're asking for the left-over scrambled eggs
Comments
Roscoe Lane
Wed, 2014-12-17 08:21
I like.
I like this a lot, the images created with these lines are terrific. Regards Roscoe...
Roscoe Llane,
Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.
brittle light
Thu, 2014-12-18 02:56
thanks Roscoe
thanks Roscoe
I was pleased with this, and its images as well.
a little quirky, but so am I
later,
Al
themoonman
Thu, 2014-12-18 04:58
Hi Al,
Took me with you, loved the journey!
Great title by the way, so fitting.
thank you for sharing.
regards,
Richard
brittle light
Thu, 2014-12-18 21:35
Hey, Richard
thanks
glad to hear from you. appreciate your reaction
sincerely,
Al