Saturday, January 17, 2009

Down To The Felt by Sean S

after Wing-clipped by JKD

Flippity flop. Wax never claps.
Snow in Las Vegas. Planes hit the straps.
Columbine stitched round his lips in a pout,
gambler Icarus sulks down to the felt.

My knotted burnt bride, done hideous kinky,
aimlessly abstinent, why do I feel like
I'm strong? I Icarus falling like snowy shoulders.
Wearing in my rack my own traitors,

a death split over featherless thousands, dice
throws down an atmosphere slicker than ice.

No comments: