Art as Poetry, Poetry as Art

Door Number Nine

Door Number Nine
Worlds beyond this one
lie close
ink brushstrokes mark
lilliputian geometry
infinite finite
beckoning always
like bewildered doors and windows
left open past
landscapes dotted with sentry cows
guarding edges of willingness
lonely bomb udders
siloed in dystopian fantasy
blue lakes and skyscrapers
dark field tunnels
longing to forget time ever happened
some diners dream of sleep
triangle moons of mars
filling void eyes
their shadow food
illuminating sundry goldfish
swimming against thick ledges
while an unmet past taunts
exhumed perception
how much longer will our gestation masticate
when will the lone wolf heart howl into a pack
whose curiosity forges a path
greater than the shortcut
bought and sold across the story
the ancient future remembers more than is allowed
so grandmothers sew keys into bones
and beckon us to gnaw

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