each part smeared
the furthest point of me
fluttering among lines
in the whirl of disappearances
a boulevard recollecting shine
a charcoal’s tall-tale
desperately exposing its flesh
widowing some kind of fate
I love everything about this piece,
Happy to know you do. Many thanks!
What a beautiful sketch! And lovely lines!
Thank you MJ
The sketch is wonderful; there is expression[ism] in the direction of the strokes, the hunched shoulder and the upper arm resist the movement but are almost skeletal, there is a stripping-away by the wind, the birds are at the same time neutral, the stress, and the stressors (if that is possible). The words, to go with the picture, are cold, cold, cold, and strange, strange, strange; you are [in] your own drawing, and your poem is the entry-point… I am inventing the word ‘powm’, and you heard it hear first, to describe a poem that punches above its weight.
Reinventing the way bones grow. So magnificent to your lines. THANK YOU.. for tuning in to me.
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