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anti-evangelical assonance
January 6, 2023
a mourning cloak
butterfly was taught to
scribble scripts
on coarse olive chalkboards
with only
refracted edison bulbs
for light.
he sang of
maroon-tinted lenses,
half-bitten apples, and
velvety words.
and he was
kindle wood for the
blazing fires he fanned.
and he was an
indigo clarinet, and
a rusted music stand.
and he was a mausoleum
for every aspiring inspiration.
and he happens to be my friend.
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this was written for a very close friend of mine :)
- p.e.r