words wiggle wildly into the wakefulness
are swept up by breath
to vast plains of comprehension
cue up as if quizzicals
bleed blood-dry in readiness
are architects as if for the reads
they titillate and full-bright
they ride the horses made of vocal tones
come forth from the haberdasheries of mouth
present for the illusions of agreements
can make-believe icicles into insults
become the welcome mat of outcries
give emotions crayons for syllables
are picturesque,
as if the only color worth seeing
is freshly read
words are ants farming and bees colonizing
while others have utterances taking stances
words granularly bring down mountains
stone cemeteries
concretize absentias
forest for their bark
shadow cast as if to light the day
and most formally
are the ribbon cutting ceremony
for silence . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment