Thursday, October 13, 2011

Porcupine. What is porcupine like about a poem?

Shape.
Hard-edged
& bristled.


Perhaps,
one
once
roasted
a porcupine.
Posted by at
Labels:

1 comment:

  1. SusanOctober 17, 2011 at 3:15 PM

    stabbed by such and such

    she goes swiftly to the moorland

    wanders as if in purpose

    and carves a circle for her soul

    too bad when moonlight deems

    it time to return to the old

    coatrack, so bluntly antiluvean

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)