Stuck in Craw

and clawing through
yet another box.

We’ve asked directions
(in? out? toward? above? between?)
and analyzed our own bright
dreams. Does it mean

that we must tell bold
stories in comic strips,
sit on indigo chairs until
the hourglass tips
toward some greater sand?

Hold my hand. Sledgehammer
my heart. There are no pearls
here, only grit and dust. No soft
white thrust of snowflakes
ever never the same,
no alchemy of just for once

It can’t be helped.

I’ll lie awhile, perhaps,
and try to open up
the boxes where I keep
my sleep.


prompted by Quickly.






This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Stuck in Craw

  1. M says:

    my sleep-boxes resist hammers. and whiskey. ~

  2. “sledghammer my heart” – I can feel that. What a terrible feeling – to be stuck. You show it well.

Use your words.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.