by Nick Simonson
I thought of moving fast
in fact I did
for my andante
ignoring the truth
of solar plexus
settling for double
farce
hiding the
wounds & epiphany
songs
under the rain of
seasons
deleted ‘sales’, ’bath & beyond’,
‘realage’, ‘samples & sounds’…
I’m open to white snow gush
feeding me wisely its story
of curious hunters
flashing desires
to devour the pheasant…
where…what a…why…
while everything – white...
