Saturday, December 17, 2011

John's Rage

My impressions blend and bend 
Like wind-storm branches
Pencil sketches against an agate sky
John is breaking furniture
Screaming, growling profane
Animal sounds
It, the sound, reaches out 
Across the bay, across oceans
Expanding and contracting
Stretching light into
Star tendrils of rain soaked
Neon taxi windows
My conscience is a widow
Dark, and bleak and preaching
But I stay hidden
Beneath the animal growling crash
And beneath the glow of 
The night…the dark…
The empty expanse of ambient fear

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