Friday, June 22, 2012

the power of yodelling

the song rushes forth from the swollen lips of large helga, its piercing and booming borne from the depths of her plump bosom and stretching out to the very peaks and troughs of the range, the sound bridging and collapsing the intervening space into a single, ice-crystallized moment. a thought is all it would take for her, lungs and all, to snap herself across this bridge to any point she chooses, with only a slightly nauseating sensation of being twisted inside out in the process. she holds the moment steady, the deeply resonating "oooooh" seeming to shiver through the cold morning air before crackling to a halt, unused.
By -

No comments:

Post a Comment

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

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

deciduous trees' leaves

deciduous trees' leaves are  tiny palms begging sunlight from the sky before they wither and die as the tree curls up to hibernate for t...

  • 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