18:04:17

17

Today’s prompt  was to write a poem with neologisms.

pack yourself in tighter for spring
is broming, shriven in the buds
unfurling, tasted by the wind’s

long spell. tried to stop this from being,
made a well for your head: a bodist
trick that failed, and then failed again.

disaster waits empty stomached,
fuming and goalded, discorded
and sore as a mother on the brink

of abandonment. you think hunger
rumbles deep? it is colossal.
it brings me forever on and on to here.

 

Picture credit: vintage paint by numbers scene.

 

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