Published in Lux Undergrad Magazine 2011: No Words Come Forth

No Words Come


You may find enough has come

to make this barren morning


the milk swirls in a teacup

and separates the music spirals

into your ductile membrane


You find that enough has come

from doting over datebooks on every page

of which is printed a bite-sized tidbit

of “wisdom”


You find enough breath at the bottom

the milk spreads out and blossoms

a bilious fomentation of words

mingling graveyard dancing thoughts

a clotted dune trickles into the pit


the moment of your demise

you can’t think of anything catchy

but stare out with blank eyes;

the hills catch falling boughs

a sunrise and your last vows


a tempest-tossed teacup ascends

unsteady rising in rawness

to the horizon of your eyes

it leaves a burning wet mustache

and an aching silence


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