poetry corner 046 – Square pain.

It bubbles and boils, & my skin is made ready.
Hatchery, patches & a fresh-batch of memory.
Trouble takes a toll, keeps a tally & tells tall tales.
Marred by regret at the Thatchery of the architect;
Wind owed to small living things.

I detach.
My thumbs get attached.

I can’t even spell haberdashery.

Advertisements

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