Indigo Hawkins

Rookie - 0 Points (April 30,1989 / Virginia)

October - Poem by Indigo Hawkins

All I am is in
& all the ins are out.

The annual dispunct:
a Real brass bombast burst
this anima thirst, a monolithic durst
of unceasing war & piecing, cymbals
clattering in an iconoclast montage.


Last year a year ago a postcard
from Paris came to me drowsy,
complicit with a subject insistence
upon communal solitude: a clumsy drum
imploding in a cavity of swollen matter.

The Days of Awe, you

Dadaism, a dove, the moon face above
has nothing to offer: no meditating goddess,
no calculation of god, only sleep.
While the saints wait to gather here, woodwinds
are ululating futile desires into the darkness.

Comments about October by Indigo Hawkins

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Poem Edited: Wednesday, October 8, 2008

[Report Error]