Acryst the intersections

Sep 13

Along came the end times.

Will there also be poetry?

Yes, there will also be poetry.

About the end times.

Sep 13

The leaves lent their ears by,

Pathed to trampled, cold crumpled bedsides

Death by, death by, death

By burden, no less. Cold crumpled bedsides.

Sep 13

Since lights stood in line, and blared

Upon the people, whose throats dry

And shoes slosh with yet dryer rain,

Counted palely each and every time.

As the minutes went further,

And the seconds drew ever closer.

Sep 15

Feeble is the lamplit night;

Green flows to meet red lights,

Slowing beneath an afternoon bridge,

Not unlike the cods atop some ridges.

Sep 19

Perched felines

Would make it.

I am no feline

I perch.