a prisoner of fate
and old man powder
sifting down through the narrows;
sand and winding streams
headed for the storm to end all
life as it is known
somewhere at the mouth of the river,
a gaping, screaming, passionate expulsion;
vomitous and wretched,
and tied to fate,
bound by shackles thick
and uncontrollable.
still,
it seems apropos.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Poem-A-Day: Day 218
Finn'd
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Drop a line, a quip, a snippet, your pants, or an anecdote...just don't drop the soap.