Enveloped in darkness

A little called poor

White and a discolored life
and a ragged settlement,
a constant increase.

What is the length,
it is there and a dark space;
a rich line drawn in the sand distinguishes it.

Cabbage in a pot makes a boil;
inside a dirty window
shows a count of ten.

Thicker and thicker is leaning;
she is widening
and mentioning nothing.

All that is needed is a catalog,
seed clam, potato, bread a little please;
presupposed and little corners of hunger.

Notwithstanding a sickness
no money for a cure;
overbearing and a sacrifice.

Play outside when the rain is wrong,
and white is wrong as a pedestrian;
plenty of the right kind of breathing then.

Trembling cause a whole thing is
a sad size,
every bit is church wrong in a prayer.

No breaking the losing of no little piece
no more than any other
complication.

Any plan is a compressed disease
handily made of what is necessary;
the plainer is made more than reason.

A pine box is made neatly
to have holes;
is used and taken apart for a different size.

Left open to be closed to be circulating
in summer and winter,
and a sick color that is grey.

A piece of earth is not splendor,
dirty is worm yellow;
more in soil not mentioned.

Mourning if not dangerous is a pleasure
if it is cheap
supposing there are no flowers.

No cut in pennies and little dressing
and bare feet;
a peaceful life to uplift them.

~A little called poor

A blind looking glass

A death egg in a cast iron pan.
A single eye makes an excuse. Two
are more necessary;
blisters in a cup, somewhere-
sudden very little, suppose is a
necessary.
There is no gratitude in mercy-
it was chosen yesterday;
crawling in a circle
and getting use to it,
there is a bargain with a cane;
some increase means
a calamity. So ordinary.

Pencil and matches being round
things are something
suggesting and a coin
likely for a number- it is necessary
to mingle in a tin cup.
Very nicely may not be
exaggerating.
There are more places empty,
if inside is let in and
certainly something desperate,
which has feeling.
The perfect to accustom the
thing is to have a
silver lining-

A not torn color hanging in a
blight. The necessity dwindled.
Not withstanding the
choice
and a strict occasion.
The care which is wrong and
plenty of doubt.
Suppose within a glass within
a gate which is open at
the hour of closing
blindness, a light in the
moon without a struggle;
What is the sensible decision-
some reasoning
and a sight.
All this makes a magnificent
happening
handily made of a singular
arrangement.
It measures a length sooner
than a blindness.

~A blind looking glass

The mushroom effect

A kind of a cloud and an explosion,
a spectacle and nothing strange
a single hurt skin
and an arrangement in a system;
the difference is spreading.

A change has come, there is no search,
there is no hope; surely any is
unwelcome, surely it is unconvincing.
Supposing there is irregularity
of a violent kind
and not getting tired of it.
Surely very likely the little things
are no longer splendor.

There is a reason for distress to be
quite solid in standing
and to use heaviness in mourning.
Very strongly my be
fainting and not to be exaggerated.

Headless bodies makes for mercy
and a wilting flower
is loud enough
which has feeling
made handily of dust;
it indicates a cemetery journey
established by length
and by doubling.

The ground is left open to be
left closed;
a color that is earthen rust,
an occasional resource
for a body.
A sad size, a particular
color strangely;
assembling waits for a spade.

The mushroom effect has left
a message,
the intention it is an astonishment
for a cleansing,
lighter than some weight;
the pound of a wound
in an ambulance.
The disgrace is not in its
carelessness, but in
the sowing of its stitches.

~The mushroom effect