…with your wild furies..



Now, rich order of walls is fallen…

This is one of three poems to perfectly describe the breakdown of a marriage – the others will be revealed in forthcoming dispatches from the subterranean reaches of the soul land, a dream space no one can inhabit for long and can never satisfactorily convey when back “in reality.” The dream time where we know what will happen but wake up as if we had not seen, heard or felt the warning signs dissuaded by mass groupthink, the hive mind will transform you more than you think, sitting atop your throne whichever one you sequester and call yours alone – when many have sacrificed to put you there.

The conversation is in silence
Confessions on a rainy alter
She jumps
He is pushed

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s