Glass Alabaster

11 years ago

Glass Alabaster
Glass Alabaster

what do you think of this poem?

My Me

The limp in my tongue, my flute, my pipe,
my cupboard of masonry drillls, my wife.
The flea on my pillow, the sand in my hair,

my broken glass voice, my everything stare,
my room of plaster, my cracked alabaster,
my shadow, my echo, my turf, my sound,

there’s nobody too rich to lie in the ground.
If a limp in your leg impedes walking, a limp in your tongue impedes speech. Not literally, but I’ve always had issues with the spoken word.

quick paced..lively…no one is too rich or to poor.
in the end that is all there is ..

nice write it has a bit of a bite

Hold Me Now Jennifer Knapp.wmv

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