Sunday, January 2, 2011

the witch

connecting the dots
the wig
the pen
those shameless bare legs,
that pressed black lipstick

i don't care for her hair
so why
does she?
it's a power struggle
jocasta and the world

so, like oedipus
i remove my eyes
to force
a change
in my perspective

it does not really help
i can still hear her voice
unclear
confused
i flee my own sense
By -

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

witness

 there's something about living on the corner of a highway intersection. during the night, and when it's really early and relatively...

  • high-coup
    poets: join forces arm yourselves, and then light up this is a high-coup
  • to my canadian poetry peeps
    dear canada, you are safe your indigenous are almost forgotten your white guilt sheds crocodile tears a fresh wave of immigrant colonizers c...
  • short-fuse at the ball
    Click on the post title if you don't see the content