it scrubs
behind the fast-talk grill
it scoops up years of undone crud

it doesn’t need
the way a lie
will knead
and bind
until it finds agreement
and slips into the anchored
unrocked boat

proudly lettering the stern

it’s not afraid to bitter Basqiat
a sugary Kincaid
or raze the figures
of realism
to realize a Rothko

and you

needn’t grease
the wheel of suffering
for you

insert yourself unspoken
into the spoke

as I go flying
please smile back at me



About writingseraph

I write. I share. I test out language here.

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

%d bloggers like this: