blues fill my eyes. Songs of whispers time.
I gawk at the question of two selves, twist fairy,
I squeeze frustration's greenish mime.
Oh my, a thought, untaught and taut, ring bells.
Crescendos ply emotion burrows.
To lay a white cloth, silver and cake tells
deaths of hopes meet soul furrows.
Glisten to the starlight line, speaks my old sun.
Wash in streams of black and white
recession, kiss the frosted rose shun.
Caper dizzy to gibber, more's the fight.
Beckons understanding in pastel wonder dreams.
Blue ragging peaks flow to valleys.
Rains fall in torrent droplets, mush up my beans.
Creak out spinal column rallies.
Black coffee whacks my tongue, still oppression
in rowboats cross no bridges high.
I stay in prisons, gallows gazing no decision.
Who is identity, follow the maybe wise.
Snow feathers fall summer meadows. Listening.
I blink in folds of safer cape invisible.
Sunlight but pricks the stars out, no by lessening
future galaxies, I play mine posing riddle.
� 2000 David P. McClellan
