- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Explanation Sought
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Click hereWhat is it,
in simple shoals of laughter
that can ring
so true,
when stars
weep centennial loss
of sisters,
bleeding plasma
into the void,
and epiphany drowns
in the whirring of wheels,
clicking until
white noise
consumes us all?
What is it with love,
really,
when air
moves like concrete,
exhausting to inhale,
suffocating
to keep in,
and pilgrims pray
at gunpoint
while answers flow
like manna from
the skybar big screen
spectacle.
What is it with hope,
being hope,
after all?
- COMMENTS
LeBrozover 16 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 38,500 poems.
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Anonymousalmost 20 years agoSo many wonderful lines. I love these.
"when air
moves like concrete,
exhausting to inhale,
suffocating
to keep in,"
Another wnner.
