The Conversational Poet Fall 2013 | Page 16

Empirical evidence strongly suggests, that my world is coming to an end, further affirmed when I licked the leathery skin of silence, in the crocodile's den; I left with a wave and nod, but when backstroking a return to shore, coral sirens whispered that even the arrogant will fall; stumbling from the lilac tides, I found whale dunes sleeping beneath the sky's glass eye; And here, I knew a simple rhyme scheme couldn't convey those of death's tears, which dripped away, for I'm pirouetting on this precipice and No-one taught me how to do the ballet, and if I haven't started living, who should take my breath away? "But look at the clock!" No-one told me, "The world reaches for another day." So I'll take my life in my hands, hidden, tucked away; but a life so contained, blisters callused flesh; it unscrews the fingernails of time, leaving forests just sparrow nests; So I'm dragged in circles by life, smirking, on a first name basis with pain; and thus seen without binoculars, a human being, in its frame Alexander Sammartino