Wednesday, November 6, 2013

sound of a squeaky hinge

flung shook
the black pearls
from its carved wooden beard
the head as it spins
magnetically attached
to the staff
there is no clef
or clue to context
the eyes burned out
leaving only lamp
or oyster
to brain
the hurled periods
arc out
and bounce
and ricochet
if these eyes or
lines were not
they would surely be
dodging knees
seen from above
an alto clef
every ricochet
to show an ear