toes are catheters en pointe.
supply, demand, and contempt; the triumvirate,
the bicycles point the way. the priests leave at dawn.
the rupture of a receding valve tears nightmares in the sky
and blesses it, a new wound — I HAVE FAITH IN YOU.
you, who dreamed of trenches for tallow
to wash the land
and moats with soap. eventually.
waiting is a part of everything.
there is a frog-king on the side of the road
that does not know where to go.
will he follow the smoke, or
will he follow the snow?
his footsteps are too far apart, but
who can blame him for that?
there, the missing signs for Yield and Stop;
grant no mercy for levelled hops.
there is a tire-track, thin, where she used to ride
on that narrow, beaten path to school.
but they're all gone now, and replaced with traces
of heartstrings and reddened wool.
— A. P.
YOU ARE READING
Accidents: A Collection of Poetry
PoetryIt's like learning a new tongue; like befriending an unfamiliar book, and finding love expressed in a million different languages that I cannot understand nor explain. - you have kept me awake for far too long Antoinette Prescott, 2016 "Accidents" i...
