flash
there's a hole in the air
flashing
the cold wind burns
it furrows and cancels
illuminated faces from
ignited thunderclaps
the intercepts of photography
grab at it
far above the standards
of a light bulb
flashing
the cold wind burns
it furrows and cancels
illuminated faces from
ignited thunderclaps
the intercepts of photography
grab at it
far above the standards
of a light bulb
Comments
would you be interested in recording this poem for the next i-Outlaw (http://i-outlaw.blogspot.com/), my audio poetry show?
let me know!
Bob Marcacci
bmarcacci AT gmail DOT com