A clockwork orange citrus smith
With glassworks in the pipes
Choosing the River of least defense
And attacking indigo light
***
An abuse of the less than innocent
Sends blood drained down the pipes
Choosing the trough of least expense
For the skinniest herd tonight
***
A floorboard creaking as it’s lifted
Over the attic pipes
Choosing the aqueduct under the vent
To invite a few cracks of light
***
Into the room with LEDs that line its stucco walls
Like corpses shells with souls of light gone radiant to dim
***
Holding the broom that never sweeps and splinters on the floor
To memorize our future like a psychic phantom limb
***
The past is in the foyer with a grandfather welcoming in
A layer of dust and cobwebs over frames of old ambition
***
And even with a present moment gifted by reflection
In the search for flame we ended up exploding our ignition
***
Arteries twist around themselves
In a self-destructive knot
Typical to the outside world
While nutrients are caught
Anatomy dies in darkness
***
Authorities plot among themselves
In a self-protective lot
Dismissive of the outside world
As criminals are caught?
Democracy dies in darkness
About the Creator
Tanner Peiffer
I'm an aspiring poet, writing from both personal experiences and surreal concepts, with the goal of inspiring anyone who may read. I hope my art can strike a chord and shift a perspective or two. 20 years old.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.