this age of un-beauty stands to attention
in horizontal lines -
like that horizon, shivering in the sleep
of nightmare
&
approaching heat-haze;
[ where a mirage of an illusion
is still a ghost ]
.
each vacuum is colder
at its surface,
where heat exchange
calls goose-pimples
to raise themselves
from slumber
& we find fear
buried at those
crossroads,
with every superstition
once thought lost.
[ including new-age bogeymen
in turbans & italian
suits ]
A contest entry
- closes soon by Melissa Gayle.
360 points, ended July 31, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
new age yes, frighteningly familiar, yes again,waking upo and they don't go away... so very well done here, a wonderful expression of genuine feelings...PK
-
Your ending was completely in your face, just excellent.
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