Truth tried truth-food
Though truth’s tooth,
Rooted and crooked grew
Sick at talk of truth tied tight
No truths but crook’s trucked telling
With truth suits at trial
Truth clues too few
Truth talk ignoring
Truth’s proof in queue.
September 09th, 2009
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September 08th, 2009
Wind waves to skinned suits, with wind’s arms waving and rocks wave back. A truth told in the waving wind, truth smacks of ship talk. Shipped out, truth doubts turn downtown, lusting proof, longing for scale, a suit, a tongue-dance, a simple crawl. The rocks talk of wind sound, slight and slow scratching of sand-sea-time. Scratches etched on glass, on corroded surfaces of sight, on sediment sandwiched in slow reach.
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