Sunday, November 27, 2016

mmdclxxxii language strangely
         —Laura Moriarty

The ostrich’s hopscotch
was graceful (Ines

timably, thought
the ostrich, who

believed she was
being offered a

scotch.) and my
skin burns as if it’s

afire.  I’m
all too aware

of the numerous
lies within my

heart.  What
I meant by

the weather
was my mood,

emotion.  Emo
ticon, emoticant.

Precipitate.  Rec

Andy wasn’t hard
up when I hit

rock bottom.
Later that same

weakness – a
few silent frays –

a Miss Oliver point
ed up to where

we were when
we first saw it.

Each of us felt
a chill of a