shy and shadow, bric-a-brac
crafty cues the master makes
latent once, now lightning cracks
beneath a skin the toucher wakes
pull a string
they'll go 'round in rings
tap a tune
their heads'll balloon
above, below confetti bits
parade the pawns of foregone games
master crowned in crystal sits
where no one knows each other's names
turn a key
for the repartee
twist a tongue
the pre-game's done
YOU ARE READING
Poems for Morbid Children
PoetryThis is a collection of some of my more curious and macabre poems. Many of my poems play with words, the sounds and shapes of them. However, I often attempt to delineate emotion and sensation I cannot otherwise word, or I take inspiration from legen...
