The ErrandBenjamin Miller
What have I been doing? Nothing, nothing. Look: the blue couch scraped the floorboards where we pushed it flush. The empty wall. The parquet's little screaming. In a dream all afternoon I dredged the ocean, pulling razor clams and wedding rings. Sallow one-eyed crabs clung to my fingers, and I named them. This is wait. This, delay. I found the perfect flaw and brought it home. Like falling kites, the night came in a rush.
Benjamin Miller Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2023, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|