Sunday, January 23, 2011

Gravity Bites the Big

Apple, Adam, Eve
sparrows from a bell-

Lucifer too
tumbled – a wished
upon star.

Fruit from every tree
litters gardens every
where, sunken tombstones

across from a farm
dead tracks that once sang
parallel songs to yellow fields.

My abs, your hair, rusted cars
little black flies swirl in the red
of my Cabernet

Last night I swear I saw
Humpty sat on a wall, today
shells in the eggs.

Even the doves have flown -
leaving peace as a bite-mark
on the branches of olives.

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