BLOG PERPETRADO POR

FRANCISCO LEQUERICA

29.12.14

Slow-mo hobo


a beautiful dialect yawns
so brutally appealing
crushing arcs
with its frolicsome lips

the ground is eccentric
and gushes wisdom
panicking
as if on some school trip

my growl now boasts a limp
of obsessive immobility
like slow-mo nobility
looted by time

my gait spells a still havoc
and enduringly
the anticipation of pain
reaps me agape

it does not hurt yet
but it will
for fangs are well-poised
at my surface

when brevity anoints me
the thud will thump them
who play witch
against an opposing sea

and now is yet before
as will be engraved precisely
with a defiance of words
always at odds