Erik Wilson

Junkyard Gates - Poem by Erik Wilson

The idea is there
I can't seem to understand-to encircle or wrap or warp the way it digs
It jives in front
of me and mocks my inner bird.
And I just WON'T have it and my
mind halts at these junky rotted gates of this rather grand idea-
And a rather hideous struggle ensues.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Poem Edited: Wednesday, April 4, 2012

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