The man asked the poet
why do you write poetry?

The poet replied
why does your dead skin flake off?


The bumblebee ascended
the hill toward the seated man

who watched as it landed on his nose.


Is it live
or is it Memorex?

Is it real
or is it flashback?


The sound of the truck without a muffler
bounced off the old oaks

echoing into fade
the sound dissolved

*you can find this poem in Madswirl


1 Comment

Filed under poetry, published work

One response to “flakes

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s