Throaty burbling, heavy from the
diaphragm
like every coin in the fountain dropped
fast like summer rain.
The water inside is shit-brown and old
and listless,
climbing up glass walls,
running a glass maze,
falling down and clinging where they
can, but
lines where they were mark the glass
until the water rises again.
Mouthful of earth
exhaled: such a hollow world
to live in – just so much hot air.
No comments:
Post a Comment