You’re no good, you’re no good, you’re no good,
baby you’re no good.
– Linda Ronstadt
;;
Too much is still
rearranging. Changing.
Are they breathing fire
or cotton candy fluff?
Wasn’t it enough that
they had teeth, and
talons? Where did the
scales come from?
They’re no good, these
gossamer winged things,
these skysong warrior
-wanderers.
They ponder too much
sting. They defy the laws
of gravity. They take too
much wonder, sun.
And before I can erase
them myself and pretend
I don’t crave their gaze,
they’re gone.
..
Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge, day 18.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
Although I have not been commenting, I am enjoying this November challenge quite a bit. Great choices in song lyrics too (I am humming to myself right now…) (K)