reed thin sluggish thread
moves toward pool-mouth
an oblique dry wet that
slithers into my head
thick tired-tongue tastes
watered down dissolves
sweat turns—then returns
a burning corrosive paste
care-frayed threadbare
shrinking ripples
righteous writes
un-poemed, un-pictured
on white page glare
I, Venus, a hot-red
blistered planet
blimp and wave
in day mourning
pools
riddling
8
syllables
or
metaphors
of
6
tablets blank hues
swallow gush-rush
waterfalls
tanked up rancid
overflows
sounds and sights
psyche-wit waiting
to release
streaming liquid thread
screaming in my head
© K. van Breda