Thursday, November 1, 2007

Phil's Poetry part 1

For Alaska

something spilled
a toxic harmful
we celebrate the imbalance
calling all squadrons, alert
i have a feeling tonight
some people are going to get hurt

along the axis a craft flies
legs of light walking in place like a mime
beach neck overboard
stones fill up a part of what it was to be empty
below surface albeit above the law
the blame lies like a wounded raven
can be pitied
serves as our world conscience
tells more in its exhoneration than most men could forthright

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