pi plaits a sandscape
radios old bones a pick
one coupl’d calash
an oilcan terrain
none other wonder that rain
one cloud to hold to
barrel and organ
a buckboard a cord unstrung
the victrola wound
Mutton Jade
shi maps at turnway
shu-maid wait a beyond as
wu-wood not let on
shi relaid sett stone
ki-staid home alone upset
maid made knots again
never all clear amok
a monk none too often of
a beaten path does
Via Chamber Lane
shu said we shall dig
knock once the ruby ledges
walk on a quartz bed
blanket tourmaline
you turn to an emerald
left on topaz park
there as the heap of
hours we’ve all done arrange
an argent content
NaPoWriMo #13 – Things We Blew Up
Memo to hikers: Keep going
We blew up the power station
because they said it was ugly.
Someone complained
on the grounds of
noise pollution,
said we’d woken their baby up.
Someone else whined
that the dust was
harmfully thick,
said they were breathing strange.
Someone grumbled
that we woke them up
too early every morning,
‘The towers used to
block out the sun,’
they said.
There was a meeting
in the town hall.
They called us
reckless, wild,
hasty, rash,
heedless and accountable.
So for PR purposes
we blew up the town.
ayaladn 