Friday, July 22, 2005

Eric has fallen asleep and dissolved,
in cream sheets full of fingerprints,
soiled identifying
fumbling with the knots of tourniquets

that hold Eric’s full heart,
as the examiner pulls apart
clots of identifying marks,
Eric fears to learn all he was was those

fingers
trying to pull off his
blank white page, leaving such heavy
clumps of

ingers
ying to pull of
lank white pa
   
ing such he
ps

3 Comments:

At 11:49 AM, Blogger tiny-o said...

it is beautiful how it falls apart

 
At 12:49 AM, Blogger Stanley Bishop Burhans said...

Thanks. I was just copying the picture

 
At 1:14 AM, Blogger Michael Collins said...

That was great. I usually immediately skip past any Blog I see that has poetry. Well, truthfully I did the same with yours, but in the time it took for the next Blog to load, I had read the first line. It was so striking that I hit the back button and read the entire post. Good stuff.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home