A Book for David

Powerful brilliance from Nick Osborne

The Dirty Limerick

the line of a well-worn
book strap, twisting like
a taut gallows rope
slaps against my denimed
knee and thigh, as I
locomote—bound around
a hardcover, without a sleeve
that needs returning to
the drop-slot abyss
at the library
door

let its pages go
to moisture-rot and
death, as I slide into the
too well-lit gallery
centered on your
pedestaled statue-
self

perched on soapbox
you run me down with
cunning marble globes and
adjudicating brow,
worn slightly furrowed
paste-face and smug
like you’ve just slain
every Philistine and you
aim to sling a final
stone

of course, you witness all
indeed, the clockwork
tocks that churn within
my heart-bound multiverse
a knowing vicariously
absorbed from what issues
out between the flapping
anemic gums of those
who come to sometimes
denigrate your lofty
aspirations to Michelangelic
perfection and fluidic
symmetry

around your chiseled lobes
the murmurs resonate
from within the…

View original post 213 more words

Author: oldepunk

Writing about my views of the world in a stream of conscience style

4 thoughts on “A Book for David”

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