Skip to content
Menu
  • Maybe Today
Menu

Customary

Posted on May 14, 2019May 14, 2019 by Torrey

The bird that spoke the apple’s truth
feared no mortal.

This too
will close.
—

Sit muttering your hardest truths,
but only to yourself.
what have you deigned today to be
but another waste.
stew yourself with the bones of tomorrow again-
strike from them the last vestiges of
flavour.
—-
He had sat with broken madness in hand for long enough.
The sphinx was towering above him only in his head.
—
Maybe it was time for his own riddles
and magic tricks

(again).

The fingers don’t forget.
Those old ways set themselves so far into you,
you don’t dare deny them.

mindless glamours
with gunpowder pops

  • Writing
  • Leave a Reply Cancel reply

    Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

    Recent Posts

    • Honesty December 11, 2022
    • The King’s Gambit June 21, 2022
    • Retracting November 22, 2021
    • Inheritance May 10, 2021
    • Gathering February 26, 2021

    Archives

    • December 2022
    • June 2022
    • November 2021
    • May 2021
    • February 2021
    • January 2021
    • November 2020
    • June 2020
    • April 2020
    • February 2020
    • January 2020
    • December 2019
    • November 2019
    • October 2019
    • September 2019
    • August 2019
    • July 2019
    • June 2019
    • May 2019
    • April 2019
    • March 2019
    • February 2019
    • January 2019
    • December 2018
    • November 2018
    • October 2018
    • September 2018
    • August 2018
    • July 2018
    • June 2018
    • May 2018
    • April 2018
    • March 2018
    • February 2018
    • January 2018
    • December 2017
    • November 2017
    • June 2017
    • November 2016
    • July 2016
    • April 2016
    • April 2014
    • December 2013
    • August 2013

    Login

    • Register
    • Log in
    • Entries feed
    • Comments feed
    • WordPress.org




    © 2023 | Powered by Minimalist Blog WordPress Theme