"tidal" she shouted

"tidal" she shouted
high above the breaking sea
"I am the still one
rolling of a tin drum
in an eastern tomorrow"

the selection was haphazard
the followers were all flea-bitten
city cores came and went
with the decay of more days
daring the one to cease

"and then you die"
she was above me now
bending turrets in a basket fashion
aiming for the closed asylum
with a new interpretation

---

(page 133 - unpublished ms - May 2 2018)



Poetry by Bob
Read 971 times
Written on 2018-05-09 at 10:34

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"Tidal," it will leave and come back with all its force, pain. and joys. This is what I see:

"the selection was haphazard
the followers were all flea-bitten
city cores came and went
with the decay of more days
daring the one to cease "

"and then you die"
Ashe
2018-05-13