In Uncategorized on February 5, 2012 at 6:21 pm

blog of poet, leah umansky


They were craving for more and wheeling for meaning. To open a place of their own. It might have lead to triumph, if they hadn’t wolfed all the accents: the flounderings and the groundlings. A round letter ate a flat, then a flat ate an accented, then one whispered, Viva the Revolution.


One held a banner under his chin.  One played a flute in the corner. One practiced marching at night on the lawn. One was vain. One got the boot.  One brushed his horse, ready for battle. One wrote love letters. One filed invoices. One memorized the Bill of Rights. One braided and unbraided their hair in the mirror. One dreamt of a brighter day of equality where all members would be free.                                                                                                                                                     

One fled.


They were all in-betweening, all careening and just believing, They were all lustfully-bleeding for an inn of…

View original post 176 more words


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your 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

%d bloggers like this: