Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Pearl Pirie 

a thousand cuts, cold sleet
makes me immortal 
since it does not kill me.
maybe I weaken.
maybe I am sombre 
as an escalator after hours.

write what you no
no, no. the unknowable,
the honest to gaslit truth.
aren’t all pauses pregnant 
and is not noise 
the birth control of ideas?

words point forward, not 
prophetically but profitably
not for profit but for gain. 
consider what you consume
its cleanliness. do like 
the racoon and wash
before consuming.

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