Showing posts with label 3rd degree burn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 3rd degree burn. Show all posts

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Putting poetry to the pasta test


The poems that stick-
are the ones that
when hurled against a wall
make not a sound,
some advise letting them float-
as a way of settling.

The poems that penetrate
and get beneath the skin by
3rd degree composition, 
tend to scar, pink and raised, 
until another poem
goes deeper.

The poems that sing
are Free
like all the rest
seek harmony, adhesives
and sharp lines
that stick out. 



Painting by William Merritt Chase [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

(Bone pile)

My lips are sealed with  The caulk of deaf ears. Born for this. Lessons to be learned as chapters Turned  Over, like how to read our bodies ...