it whisks all things away
just like Charlie Chaplin's hat-
Everything but my solid resolution
to go Nowhere and be Nothing.
even the heavy wooden Door
isn't immune-
it bangs in Warning;
distant drums of ancient warriors.
it violates Marilyn
just in time for the cameras;
it waltzes with the weathervane
and conducts a cataclysmic wind chime Chorus.
it howls in Agony-
or perhaps just to frighten
the small girl afraid of Ghosts;
the young woman afraid of open Doors.
1 comment:
remember when you used to write a poem a day? This is a selfish request, but please do it again!
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