4/27/17

Waffling Through The Air Waves


The ash will be ash.
Back from where it was burnt.
Smoldering remains.

Only smoke is left.
Waffling through the air waves.
Disappearing above.

Clear the mesquites.
Stack the piles 100 yards apart.
Spark the gasoline.

Like Nothing

  Like eating cardboard for days. Like heavy air full of silence. Like a sharp edge of ice. Like a suit hung up in a bag. Like a drooping an...