At last, I've completed my black poetry journal, the one that says, "grammar is for squares" in the front. Next I need to fill up the Kraft journal I got bored of drawing in.
The last poem:
I Just Want to Know
These unchiming bells
are the great unknown.
I think I see them everywhere,
hovering over mantles
and tumbling through bedding.
All of their eyes are bells.
I feel the shape with parting lips,
membrane over metal.
I think I know, and then
the cool curves disappear
and I am mouthing the air,
a fish, waiting.
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