says the little brat
Posted: February 17th, 2011, 6:42 pm
The twilit snow’s turned blue at least, the same
delinquent periwinkle hint that halts
the winter’s perfect day-sky-blue—
and all the roadside refuse that so shamefully
disrupts the blank-slate snowbanks vaults
away on silhouetted trees whose hue
is just as two-dimensional and flat
and focused like the morning fore the dawn—
and this is how my paradise is drawn:
with purple floors and ceiling-rafters that
are marked and messed with scars some Cheshire cat
decided to impart in place of confidential,
hidden grins— “Hell’s bells: I’m on
to something genius!” says the little brat.
delinquent periwinkle hint that halts
the winter’s perfect day-sky-blue—
and all the roadside refuse that so shamefully
disrupts the blank-slate snowbanks vaults
away on silhouetted trees whose hue
is just as two-dimensional and flat
and focused like the morning fore the dawn—
and this is how my paradise is drawn:
with purple floors and ceiling-rafters that
are marked and messed with scars some Cheshire cat
decided to impart in place of confidential,
hidden grins— “Hell’s bells: I’m on
to something genius!” says the little brat.
