Author: admin

You have for me: eyes
in jars preserved
with quick sense and
clever wit.

A narrow doorway flaps open to spread its wings
keeping flight.

through the process of corruption
we see the potent universe
brought down

You ask me to close my eyes
and, without adjectives, describe—
which sounds a bit like
painting without light

Battered with stem broken, the flower
leans against the glass

All Sales Final s’what the man
said, and that was it for Nick

We forge our words
into verbal hammers

We’re off to Mississippi where cotton is snow
in the summertime. Mockingbirds sing sweet songs
all year long. Magnolias scent the air.

I would have died for love of her