Thursday, August 02, 2012

Buried in Summer

One can hope for scarlet beef
in a kidney shaped tub full of
lonesome pups who all shiver while
reeling from the copper sky as though
it were a receptacle for bashing the eyes
with sheer bliss and beauty.
Let me not return to the city all
kinked and ruinous,
bent on the administration
of failures. Seizing from a lamp,
I read old letters by arm's length;
glasses nestled on my nose just
like you'd imagine someone would
do in a play about such matters.
It means so much to be buried here
with the stillness of summer
now tilted to rot.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Another great one! I agree- You're on a roll!

8:57 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Mr. Colby is knocking it out of the park this summer!

11:22 PM  

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