Sunday, February 23, 2020

Looking Through The Peephole. By DAH


This is half of my body
a sack of bones
a thousand dead breaths 
up to my neck in earth
sleep comes like dying birds 

I’m looking through the peephole 
of everyone passed-on 
stripped down to darkness
lying on scabby backs 
like rocks marking boundaries 

The entire world is plastic
and hurting
and up to its neck in filth 
and the temples are cracking
one by one, and the sky
will be nearly naked 

with only rusted planets 
like serious witchcraft
and before they make the gates
there will be zillions of souls
burnt to dust  

Then, a watery splash, and evolution
comes again
and for everything 
new figures, born and raised 
will be crawling to the shores 





DAH is a multiple Pushcart Prize and Best Of The Net nominee, and the lead
editor for the poetry critique group, The Lounge. The author of nine books of
poetry, DAH lives in Berkeley, California, and has been teaching yoga to children
in public and private schools since 2005. He is working on his tenth poetry book,
which is due for release in September 2020, from Clare Songbirds Press.   

visit: www.dahlusion.wordpress.com

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