Found Poem

And lo, I stood transfixed between the mounds of rounded peaks
Betwixt the mindless squawking rabble and the one who never speaks
Both were beckoning to me From mighty in their towers made of memory and bone
Atop narcotic swirling hillsides, with the finitude of stone
They laid their case that I would make each one of them my home
But lo, I stood transfixed

Both were beckoning to me With the stumbling slurring stupor of a lonesome snakebit boor
Whose appendages were frozen, though they once had moved before,
While the din of recollection quickly rose to deaf’ning roar
I regurgitated “never” and I vomited up “more”

Published by

ianlhayes

When I’m not writing novels and short stories (mostly in my journal), I’m climbing rocks, pursuing truth, and trying to make the most out of my mortality.

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