morale dribbles a toothache
into faithless wood, a counselor at restraint
caroling with a harangue, distraught and light.
she sleeps with the contraption of her brew.
upon her silvery aviary of down,
dying, she bribes a long and syllabifying significance;
and waterproofs wholesale vitamins,
which rivet like blubber to the backward sky.
and when, at times, wrenched in her larceny,
she lets a future telegram flunk,
some placid poise, some engine of sleep,
tame his homeless hardware. The technology
of soap glistens of irradiation
and of operations- he hijacks
it from the superlative
tucking it deep in his helium.
I know it's a little late, but I will write another later today. It is like my day vanished before my eyes. I spent a good portion of the day working on my Shakespeare paper. Once that was written, I had to write my marketing paper. Then I tried to do a black out poem using a newspaper and it looked like shit, and I know scanning would be atrocious. I don't how other poets make their poems look cool. I guess I am going to have to use magazines. I just can't draw in books, it is a weird affliction I suffer from. Anyway find more awesome poets at NaPoWriMo.