There’s something about standing here.
\nPurple lake.
\nYou lake monsters curl
\naround Nessie’s frame
\nwhile locked inside
\ntwirls Nessie’s babe.
\nThe bark peeled away,
\nthe arrow fires straight through
\nthe cotton woods
\nwhere the vision stood.
\nOne can hear the fields ticking,
\nthe silence purring
\nDelta blues
\nBitches brew.
\nThe vision spirals inward
\nto that place
\nwhere nothing escapes.
\nThe gourd swallows the flame
\nuntil we’re full, until we’re done
\nuntil we’ve given up
\nand then smiles it back to us again.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u00a9 2011 – Stephen K. Pickering<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There’s something about standing here. Purple lake. You lake monsters curl around Nessie’s frame while locked inside twirls Nessie’s babe. The bark peeled away, the arrow fires straight through the cotton woods where the vision stood. One can hear the … Continue reading