

Ode To Last Pomegranate They dragged their dusty feet across the carpet,Ode To Last Pomegranate by ~LackwitMauler
but the boxes have gone.
These are strange countries,
of refugee silverfish and work-boot craters.
Our shadows stick to walls.
Elsewhere,
you weigh the topmost branch,
the gravid summer Cassandra,
sun-swollen,
ordinary bee-idol,
too high for a five-year old hand.
Oh, if I could I would lie,
sleepy,
in the shape of your red shade
(leave you to stare your bristling-eye blind to the east),
and undo these autumn strictures
one by one.
Nights are cool
with diesel smells.
In the garden, I press time beneath
my tongue. This is what you mean, Cassandra:
a lengthening blue hou


- I once met a man with a beautiful face- by ~incluye
Who said he was hoping to go into space.
I told him, "You're crazy!" He waved me aside
And went up to space in a rocket and died.
Tonight I went back to my bedroom to weep
And black faceless demons refused me my sleep.
Their bodies are covered with starry black sky;
I don't think these demons will teach me to die.


lions In my chest there lives a beast.lions by ~incluye
Lionlike, of black and white.
he is chained behind rods of iron.
In his eyes gleam weird cities tinged with gold.
Teeth and claws drip with paint, bright colors, gold and silver.
Mouth roars melting, thundering music.
These things that when he smells and hears it pains him,
yearning for the outside world rips at his heart
and he longs to be free
to protect his master
from the cold
&
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