Their eyes were closed
and they stood
in line. In the dream
there is no suggestion
of a purpose,
just the indispensable.
Like in a 20th century
painting. The last
they knew was
hunger. It was in the eyes.
A weight that opens
the doors.
Their eyes were closed
and they stood
in line. In the dream
there is no suggestion
of a purpose,
just the indispensable.
Like in a 20th century
painting. The last
they knew was
hunger. It was in the eyes.
A weight that opens
the doors.
the curly mind linguistically innovative poetry - weird & risky 
Reblogged this on reubenwoolley.
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