Webbed Feet (please critique) edited

by fabled construct

Posted to Poetry on 2003-12-15 03:26:00

If your sheep
begin to flower,
Bag its wool
And hit the road.
If your house
Releases water,
Spread its bones
Across the soil.

You have no luggage of
Your own, now.
Tread the water in the bowl.

Cut your teeth,
On my elbow.
Prepare your
Food on my lobe.

You have no luggage of
Your own, now.
Tread the water in the bowl.

Pile your teeth
beside the door stop.
Balance those
That hold your own.
I had the same
With some one else that
Did the same
As you with ghosts.

Wipe your cheeks now. Don’t
You know that
Your attempt at home was thrown?

Level out,
Don’t come nearer.
Feel the mud
Scratch your toes.

Wipe your cheeks now. Don’t
You know that
Your attempt at home was thrown?














The Literary Kicks message boards were active from 2001 to 2004.