there's a hidden creek

there's a hidden creek
bubbling in the aftermath
of earth's rumbling tenancy
a shoe that won't fit skaters
falling from dark windows

it is time to be jolly
to let the shoe shine boys
circle their poor decency
rolling finger fired longing
after birds of hot ash

destiny is a logical must
unruly and chaotic it gasps
in the last will not second
passing its absolute conclusion
a tuliped birthday bouquet

seldom spotted day unread
where one sails dark waters
in run ups for a daily spin
circumcised just to make sure
are introduced to myth for money

good night guess what is real runs
screamed ferned and feathered
heronsized in coves clam dashing
with poignant silt dying dying
for a last glimpse of why here





Poetry by Bob
Read 717 times
Written on 2017-01-28 at 21:09

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Maija Liepins
Intriguing
2017-01-28