Sagas
of cities I lost,
due to the lack of interest,
kicked out
by living cost,
starve
for a googled link,
swarmed
by the signs “For Sale”,
farmed
for a pub-crawl ale.
“Think”
makes me ink,
senses
where poems should snake,
how to electrify ache,
fences
around my heart.
Incarceration of words
can’t obdurate
a mistake.
Feelings shall burn,
smiles I fake
veil innumerous plots.
Harvest
a meltdown
of thoughts…
Sagas
of cities I lost,
crumbled in my verbosity,
missed
by old senses
at most,
starve
and the link
lets me host,
killing bolshy curiosity.
August 26, 2011
My crumbled verbosity
© Copyright: Юрий Лазирко, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111082701310
Свидетельство о публикации №111082701310
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