Friday, July 24, 2009

Fool's gold



Pirate on fire struck against this flinty skin
flickers, coruscates and then glimmers
just like all the rest and what's left
for good, for laughs, in cavities on
the living room widower's mouth is
a moth waltzing the air and this light
skull shaped thorax for mast lacking
the crossbones in your nightly banner

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