Random Constructs

Visions

Light as impurity
schools the breams of closet tyrants.
Like prating elfin flowers
caught among the reeds groaning
alongside the roar of an impossible rapid.
Trellises.
A lesson for young children, still gearless,
still undetermined and inevitable.

Childhood Scenes

The fan windows, and the balcony
on which settled the sooty dirt,
the sand of an hourglass,
skin-like with perpetual grime.

Silence. The air is heavy;
it presses.
And the sunlight shafts and bends,
the golden morning turns to yellow,
and strides for the intensity
and the scorch of noontime.
Where the dread of noise begins,
and life unfolds its deep-rosed curtains
to the whispers of yearning,
through the wounds of words
for the untold seconds, the death-bound hours.