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July 27 - 2:53 p.m. on a Tuesday
by Jason WardellI am building a monster carcass,
a headstone, a monument to 2:53 p.m.
on a Tuesday, when I sat in the shade
and heat, sweat pooling around my glass,
my deep breath of a blank page inaudible
against the daily cacophony of old air
and thin lines, pen stuttering, voice
smearing, I am filling these with sound,
I am leaving these empty, I am doing less
with more, threading solid lines through
months, breathing shallowly, facing the
empty page sighing with potential
and echoes of promises to make good. 07/27/2010 Posted on 07/28/2010
Copyright © 2024 Jason Wardell
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 07/28/10 at 12:39 AM Pregnant with possibility but no birth, yet. Uncomfortable and awkward as you read about screams in braille. This conveys the blank page well. It is a bit ironic as you have written it rather exquisitely. |
| Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 07/28/10 at 02:42 PM excellent! |
| Posted by Tom Goss on 07/28/10 at 03:23 PM Perfect form, flow, and emotion! |
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