Amory March

Over on -
    where the Streets are
tarnished with Oil,
people burnished with
Golden Teeth,
    Little Lions in Red
and the
Old Beaten Cheerleader
who
wanders lifeless with
leather
swathed upon jutting
    bone;
a Madame says to me,
    "Qu'est-ce
        que
            c'est?"
The coffered People
await the Bus.
It comes slinking down -,
wide and pale;
Dead.
The air is languid.
The Clouds pale,
smelling of turpentine,
Animus red and detailed-
along Pathways and Shoppes.
Eyes suboval
glare.
Jackdaws going,
    "chyakk-chyakk",
        "kaak-kaak"...
We fly and walk, together, plumage in
Haze,
    and
        towering trunks in the
Sky and
    I respond
        -

Reviews

[Pryde Foltz]

Over on -
where the Streets are
tarnished with Oil,
people burnished with
Golden Teeth,
Little Lions in Red
and the
Old Beaten Cheerleader
who
wanders lifeless with
leather
swathed upon jutting
bone;
a Madame says to me,
"Qu'est-ce
que
c'est?"

The night is alive with this one. I'd love to read what you do with prose:)

[Mr.Boffin]

thank you very much :) working on some prose...love writing I just write so slowly, but hoping to have some stuff ready soon! definitely will share

[Pryde Foltz]

Your writing has a very powerful exactness to it … so from where I am standing the process works.