In Need Of A Paradigm
Allison Jenks
A pinkish
corona moves
like syrup
over the barren
anchorage
Bathing the
seemingly
demotic shore
of swindlers,
nomads and
scammers
focused on
poker.
Debonair with
their trimmed
scalps.
I am a hot-
blooded
apparition
bawling for
home
My neckline
swells like a
starving
Vulture
gawking
shellfish from
high up.
Separated by an
outbreak of
earthquakes.
In a night gown
of sealskin,
The fuchsia is
washed out of
my bones and
the
Blood scatters to
my organs-
operative but
warped.
Paradigms live
in some
waterless dam I
found once.
Over passing the
firestorm in an
air drop.
Toughened but
phobic-
I overlap the
Pandora
Diving into a
scarlet waterway
with ostriches,
walnuts and
Sea-borne
leaves,
Necklaces of
wallflowers.
I am the water
as it falls on fire
dogs
The roof of my
mouth melts
me into a
Vocal self-duel.
The smoky
fragrance of
decisions
overlaps you,
Gathering my
earthly seeds
and
Facing me with
the finesse of a
Child you
ruined.
