clocking out

how sweet is the bunny’s honey
cottony portal of welcome;
staggering from the battlefield
where the ravens peruse menus

and be the bodies in feathers
or be they temples painted flesh
(boas being sacrificial
heavenly constrictors, you know)

syllables reek of ancestral
poison. Ravens ask
about the buteo dinner
and the hero eats hot croissant

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in free verse, poetry, weird and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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