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That’s All Folks

08 May
i blew the wad

the sloshy gray-matter whispers
specks out of eight knobby fountain-pen fingers
cluck the thumb spacer
for days to morning doves coo and chew
the seeds berries of snail siestas

titles slimed up from the suck:
the shaggy dog
the rolling hamster
the vexacious cat's caterwaul

orbs spun the headstand
into the sockets
voices choke in the chest cavity
graffiti spray the bone-dome
the weeping willow masked back to
the giggle of the soloist
echoing the hairs on the arms
to rise, pirouette
and salute

now a sound clangs the cage's ribs
that's all
folks








3.1 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    
 
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Posted by on May 8, 2022 in Poetry

 

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