Sunday, October 07, 2007

Sleep (Press)

Absence
begins to
cry in my
dead
ear, into which sounds
fall, a pit of
gravel, each
He a small note in the
I chord
jangles with
kicking violence
lets
meaning flow
nebulously
out like
platonic blood. The
question
resounds in cacophonous
song,
teetering on
unlawful
voice's
wistful precipice.
Xylophones pound
you out in a
zephyr fallen.

1 comment:

Steven said...

Very creative and skillful to begin every line with a letter in the alphabet (and without breaking from your usual voice/tone)... the word placement confused me for awhile until I saw that trend. It's a good choatic portrayal of something we usually consider restful, which is certain to throw people off of their expectations.