Jim Trainer

UNTITLED

In poem, Poetry, the muse, Uncategorized on May 25, 2016 at 9:51 pm

poems are anonymously
hoisting a black flag
in dark sunglasses
and taking the hills with fire
filling your pockets with dead coins
till you’re sunk to the bottom of the sea’s blue dream
pulling you in to croci of sheets and hair and leg
as rain pings off the roof in syllables
and calliope melody rises dark on the wind

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