"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Monday, May 28, 2012

Grid Paper - Poetry Prose.

Your grid paper life offers all the structure I need.
But it's just that, isn't it?
It just looks good on paper.
Beyond the starched white crisscrossed with hazy blue lines there is something
trying to escape.
Something tangible and wild that doesn't just bend the rules,
And when that wild soul bears its teeth and breaks free of the hard gridded lines that keep it in check,
things become visceral and real,
beautiful in an ugly way.
Without these lines, life would be raw and untamed
and so much better.

1 comment:

"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."