Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007


Finally, twilight comes.

Days of icicles and gags
have seized my jelly heart into
a tough, belligerent bloc.

Now I can't hear you.
Your cajoling insight
and loveless legalese is useless
against the pendulum swing
of sleep.

Judiciously it falls
to knock your hands
from 'round my throat.


Switch said...

Yay! New poem!!! I like it; a little melancholy to begin with and then a darkish twist at the end... Quite a sense of mystery here, for me at least, and that's what makes it really compelling.

More please! ;-D

aposematic said...

Thankee sai, mister Tim - your feedback is as always appreciated.

I'm posting up some new bits today, so look out for those!