Beach bench rest.
Slump.
Breathe.
Close eyes, open ears.
Shore waves lap.
Waters drain down
ear tunnels –
tickling,
trickling down.
Drip. Drip.
Drip Drip Drip.
Space invader.
Sounds slip –
liquid of birth canal,
and madness.
Open eyes.
Water sparkles,
A thousand stars – blinding.
Gold gleaming –
(Note: This is the title poem of my yet unpublished chapbook. It was published in the San Diego Poetry Annual 2008)
TVC Writing & Art 