Angels, Pleasant in the Liminal Conscious

A hundred angels

danced in a transient haze

while a horse played the harpsichord (John).

 

The weather was pleasant,

like conversations with your Mum,

which is more than a man can afford.

 

Did we lie in the liminal,

in crepuscular rays,

till we reconciled the muse.

 

Did the pages shake the conscious,

& the conscience create nightmares,

and the hangover leave us confused?

 


Published in SpeedPoets, Vol. 13.6, August 2013

comment...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.