Crescendo pitched yowl:
Mutes fraternity,
Frets on hallowed mosaic;
Steps standoff tears;
Welt pinions portrait;
Lamp bounces off the mirror;
Immobilize my intentions
Confession booth, draped in ungodly rug
She toils to shake hands with liberty,
Welcome! The queue screams, at Ellis.
He forgets the ghastly makeup in 94′,
“Oh love,” the bangles cried, ” measure”
“Take me to sleep on Sundays for the rest of my life”
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4 thoughts on “Just because it’s untitled doesn’t mean it doesn’t mean anything.

  1. I actually like this. A lot. Life often doesn’t make sense and we see others or perhaps remember ourselves in snippets and vignettes. I get that here.

    Like

    1. Thank you very much . I am glad I gave fragments if not the whole picture , which what one is entitled to ask of poetry, I think.:)

      Like

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