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.