Thursday, July 22, 2010

until Loss moaned his name

night by night, part by part
the woman he was with
eventually transformed

her pair of tiny wrists
becoming rivers of Desertion

her arching spine
a bow of Abandonment

the roots of her hair
the threads of Retreat

each rib of the cage
a baton of Betrayal...

until the complete shape
of Absence shuddered
beneath him & Loss
moaned his name
This blog is updated irregularly and has nothing to do with the poet's output. The poet is actually disturbingly prolific. He writes about 5 poems per day. The pages are everywhere, even stacked in the bathtub.