V

B29559d4a577ce9da5357fb9f03a53abby Andrew Breen23 Sep 2017

Evaporated laughter
condensed and
clinging
on
cold
glass
landscapes.
A search
for atonement
behind
the cowardice
of ink.
Too bad,
it's an electric
oven,
lest
this hoarse throated
singing body
would go the
way of
shattered
bell jar.
Macabre moods
stifled in
old coffee cups,
cold and
half-filled
with yesterday mourning,
expensive self-pity and doubts
about the cost
of everything
lacking value.