Bird Claws

I was writer

blocked

–mind fully unfriended–

and I could no longer s’talk my thoughts. . .

much less comments

on ‘em,

I could only guess

at the storm of them

–the I of them–

hidden by her’cane

and stumped,

(both to & fro)

my soap box crumpled underfoot

–faded in Tide–

words held service

but died

–TOT–

(German for: tip of tongue)

wake unwoke

–no 11^th hour speech–

just splish-splash of whitewater from

wee hour ships

(in parallel universes)

–ice-berged or not,

here they stall!

chattering teeth

conforming

(as indicated)

in exterior smile

–less that irksome ocular involvement–

ripostes

echoing

. . .

distorting

. . .

bouncing

(like yore steps )

in underbooked auditorium

–a monotonous, comforting matinee–

preserving

neck’s integrity.