We, the Illogical Flamingo

25 09 2010

Tiny typed sentences
lie flat and broken in space
on white sheet.
Spoken, same words
pretend to dance

as an illiterate flamingo
flees into the desert
searching for water.

We too fling ourselves into
soul traffic
searching for breath.

Loss of logic
causes fragments
like fried but forgotten
stinky little chicken feet.

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