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This Is Where Some Things Are Kept

XI.

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Last morning,
a sparrow winged by my windowó
flashed a brief absence of c o r i a n d e r huesó
and I thought it had to be you.
The ghastly art a day gives.
Science has permission to dissect the color of sky
for our opera gl a s se s;
Messiah or whomever never thought this far ahead.
Could you s u pply some literature
about these thebans?

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Categories
Poetry

Comments

  1. escorial's Avatar
    i don't get your work...which is ok for me as i like the way sum put words together and find the abstract words often tally up to fragmented images...you mix image and word play and it's not easy to decide do i like it or get it but i do like surrealist writing and the hearing trumpet cud well fall into your style...deffo
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