Stolen, fluky moments are an antidoteto the mundane strifeThat beg fracture linesbetween realitiesto soften,and Anything surreal,obtuseor wonderfulthat lingers in the morningundoubtedly did occur, andperhapswill make senseby daylight with fluky snaps stolen from the night
Love! What was the name of our bird? Trying to remember that poem we wrote so many moons ago. AHHHH... The Feeder Keet.
Nice work, Fluky Snap... I accept your mission. Miss you, mofo.
Stolen, fluky moments
ReplyDeleteare an antidote
to the mundane strife
That beg fracture lines
between realities
to soften,
and
Anything surreal,
obtuse
or wonderful
that lingers in the morning
undoubtedly did occur,
and
perhaps
will make sense
by daylight
with fluky snaps
stolen from the night
Love! What was the name of our bird? Trying to remember that poem we wrote so many moons ago. AHHHH... The Feeder Keet.
ReplyDeleteNice work, Fluky Snap... I accept your mission. Miss you, mofo.
ReplyDelete