I never think of the future - it comes soon enough. - Albert Einstein

Quatrains


1 nomination

we may have run out of random excuses tied on the back of a very long list of emotional quatrains, flowing around rhymed nothingness seeking relief from rhymed lines out of time, mystical signs can you believe them when nothing comes to be the lightened sublime fades in the sunlight scatterbrained egos run like mice repentant gossips scurried like jumping dice we cautiously looked around the restaurant and saw, tables of two holding hands tables of one, sat a darkened clam with brocolli picks she walked out onto the street with her secret thinking nobody sees, nobody knows leaving the soup in the kitchen for tea laughing at nothing, nothing that made sense...



© alisajs
2015-01-30

3 Comments

You have to be a registered user to be
able to post comments to poetry.

Register Today!


If you already have an account, log in to post a comment.





Please be patient while we go looking for comments...