Thursday, September 20, 2012

abeadedloom

stencils of my mind are placed onto parchment paper
they slide off the wax like bold black drops of ink
they roll and wobble to the perimeter of which jagged teeth have bitten the sheet
thouroughly slipping. thouroughly off. complete.
a flicker instant shadow peers over  drawn lines
confused of which is north and which is south; tangled in yarn and straws of twine.
configure me a format of what you think is necessary
for me to harness and cultivate like grapes of wrath and frida's portrait of sorrow and conformity.