the poet's drought of a mind
trickles like dried earth down a dune slope;
the humidity threatening to condense
but never following through.
unlike rain through paper relieving the tension
that holds the world together,
this landscape crackles into inhumane patterns.
Spam!
ReplyDeletei like spam, it makes me feel warm inside. i particularly like how it said "rather cool"
ReplyDeleteintellectual spam :)