Rorschach

March 31, 2020

Something abstract,

immaterial assumption

bursting breathing

in color.

Rainbow eyes.

 

Wicked psyche

and the curvature of ink blots.

Associative breath in the ether

makes a murderer of you or I

or some passersby

on a street corner.

 

Breathe me into essence

or some feint vestige

of reality.

Whisper the world

to sleep.

 

Inhale lest

you asphyxiate.

Unsteady hand

of a jitterbug.

Jitter jitter and

fritter away

 

all that time you made.

 

Damn we’ve got a great gig going.

And that eternal eclipse

mutes the sky and

rainbow eyes.

 

I see the vague portrait of a butterfly

up here in the ink awry.

 

1942 and they decided

to lobotomize me for it.

 

Ain’t that crazy.

 

 

 

 

 

Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Please reload

  • Black Instagram Icon
  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black Twitter Icon