Untitled – Alfred Hazlitt
November 27th, 2008 | Published in Volume II: Wastelands
Rising to the warmth of a day, peering from slumber,
to feel that crisp dawn.
dusting off the night-time,
shedding aromatic dreams,
porruos to darwinian theories,
desperate to feed on the tastey flesh of knowledge.
snowflakes of colour,
abstracts of form,
bend and twist and glimmer in the newborn sun.
fluid forms from the moonlight-china-cup drip from the silent dew.
drip, reality forms a mound ahead,
drip, reality clambers crudely ahead,
drip, reality is Mr. Spoon.
drip.