I. Words

If I can't give them what it takes to be free,
then they're trapped forever,
somewhere inside me.

II. Indignation

Each day hidden shrieks
of human expression
wait to be unleashed,
perhaps into the warped arms
of a gnarled and hollowed out tree,
or onto an airy canvas of sky
where an unwieldy metal pen
races noise and smoke
to the atmosphere's end.

III. Return Of The Sun-Bloom

A coiled venomous snake hisses softly
on the inside of my eyelids,
always prepared to strike
at the base of my ankle,
so I can suck the wound for ink.

12/05/2007

Posted on 12/05/2007
Copyright © 2026 Tom Goss