MY MUSE

nothingness I offer you
pearls of other wisdoms

poverty bereft even of poverties
only convenient broken vows

misunderstandings
interrogations

absence I offer you
open silent mouths

you shall remain nameless
your fingers curl too much

grasp the trembling, wounded hawk
whose wingspan approximates a child

stuff your pockets with those alphabets
deemed to be brilliant abstractions

by judgments of learned men
after the same trial

Stanley Gemmell ©

surlsone@angelfire.com