Friday, August 28, 2009

Ed Ecco

Kind currents of electricity 
rise from damp tiles isighing mists.

Ground baptised
by mysterious torrents...
Mother's labor
breaks alterity.

Here every act
recreates order:
Labor's eschatophilia.

Everything anew
as the miraculous
moves to renew.

1 comment:

Beysshoes said...

I wish you'd make your poetry mentally accessible for idjits like me, bonbon. I mean, at least nota bene` the title.
Uhm you're starting to invert words like me. lol "A water pump ..." - yes?

Favorite line: "Every mother's toil".