scribbles
sorry i haven’t been here
for
m o n t h s
w e e k s
d a y s
sorry i had gone
all s i l e n t
*
did i not have
any verses to w r i t e
any s t o r i e s to tell ?
i was in the process
of l i v i n g
them
blocking this
w h i t e n o i s e
inside my head
**
did i not have
any verses to w r i t e
any s t o r i e s to tell ?
/ o killing silence! /
sorry i haven’t been here
for
m o n t h s
w e e k s
d a y s
*
Sleepy days and blooming nights — f i e l d s drying out of fine c o f f e e A nice, slow sip, tasting some fancy b e a n s — a fragrant future drawn on my bitter e s p r e s s o I stole a puff blowing some faint s m o k e verse — but your tired eyes wouldn’t read f u z z y letters S l o w words, fake rain, dripping on h o p e f u l grass — some shattered glass Spilling red ink onto w e t p a g e On sleepy days, I write a faint smoke v e r s e — Our fragrant future d r a w n on a bitter espresso
/ forgetful
regretful
a mindful path of
multi-storied
v e r s e s /
searching
for liminal
s p a c e s
observing
those pondering
f a c e s
*
. . . o p p o n e n t s
aware
contenders—
beware
of those doubtful
intentions
unspoken
d i s s e n t i o n s . . .
sketched
on damp paper—
and never
aired
*
/ forgetful
regretful
a mindful path of
multi-storied
v e r s e s /
searching
for liminal
s p a c e s
fierce like
assonant
traces
you can
now
view—
though
I n e v e r
b a r e d
LannaZee 