Thread: The Book of Glaw: Poems and Shorts

Crushed (Untitled)

Three years it’s taken me.
Three.

We see our world in threes,
don’t we?

In circles, sounds, and trinities;
between the white and green
of our country; from Catterick
to Brittany.
There’s you, those three,
and then there’s me.

The syllables in your name
sing songs to me.

Between obsession and insanity,
three years,
I’m crushed,
and it’s taken me.

From April (Unfinished)

I can see the moon wall.
The only manmade structure visible
from Earth.
But it’s not as stable as it looks
from underneath.

Leaving marks in the red and gold furnishings
that defy the laws of gravity
and the soft, smooth whiteness of walls.
Slipping and squeaking under skin.

Don’t step outside, please;
you can’t breathe.
Don’t imitate the kids in PVC.
They’re getting high on lack of oxygen,
and they can’t see.

Why was my TV on the windowsill, anyway?

A nervous giggle slips my lips
as I walk past; this is the place
where we first met;

Where I first caught your gaze
between the bubbles
and the bottles.
But an electric fog blocks my view
and I cannot touch you.

So a steady hand taps the glass
between you and I -
and sparks fly.