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Title Drop

if you read the book of the blue ghosts
in the comfort of your electric bed
between the hours of the albatross & the porcupine
never again to wonder over the cry of the blender

in this garden
drip drip drop
goes the rain
tip top bop

this song is in the spectral key of x sharp
drowsing off in a saucer of cold coffee
with goldfish glancing across the library
pushed & pulled by the magnetism of mad love

in this garden
drip drip drop
goes the rain
tip top bop

reflections in the curled corners of mirror rooms
this fancy frippery you donned at midnight
draped across a cosmic gap in the teeth
but those people we subjugated are still subjugated

in this garden
drip drip drop
goes the rain
tip top bop
something still
drip drip drop
in the night
tip top bop

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Posted on August 3, 2016 by Josh. This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.
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