Poetry Forum

ants, rats, spiders. architects of industry. the buzzing of skeletons hung in light bulbs, as the current struggles. ghosts for nightlights. a clock coughs up the music. the piano grinds its teeth. it’s past midnight somewhere… pink sweat slicks, patches under armpits. cracking walnuts, I knuckle. b...

I liked this one too. Spoke volumes without shouting...great ending. Look forward to more of your stuff.

It's refreshing to see some nice clean lines. Most writers have too many words in their head, not realizing that there only a few that can tell a story (I guess, it’s a personal thing). This one had me interested the whole way, without dissecting it for me. I enjoyed it...for what it's worth.