105
The Soprano forgets her god a
Drunken thumb homage to large eyes
And stranded years traipsing through
Graveyard’s evenings
and what fine looking evenings they were.
Remember the foul fog, the key to the grave?
Wisdom travels alongside custom
A clever idiot puzzling over a misremembered joke
Another vacant indication, hung on wires, raised to some discreet heaven.
A tribute paid in smoke that chains you to the years
The grass will one day marry the sky, but for now,
Like Drunks they tell a story when asked for a name.
1 comment:
Mike, I really like the the Monster images; very intriguing and leads the viewer to correlate the text to the visual choices you made in terms of the facial types and their expressions... (Oh dear! Which one am I?) and why exactly does one facial type fall more in line with hope and the other with despair... --just what I want out of any image. I also enjoy the (likely) inadvertent umlaut on the M (should more correctly rest upon a vowel as in Mönster -but that adds to the charm)
The eye-vest guy is grist for anyone's mill as well.
-Rick
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