Ryan Frazier

The White Noise Of Prison Bars

Some orange lights never stop flashing
and yield signs form flesh markers
inside of New England's tilting womb.

Rock formations and bottle rockets,
cans of cloudwater bubbling for
the clay and bugbite of
a clawed

That same orange in faces
and humility over heavy plastic
smoke rings; Ruins and characters
trapped between the hum of dead crickets.

Hours lived in disgust of clocks
and everything else which time
may cling to.

Not even the sun,
mumbling through your hair,
can hold an instant
of orange.

Poem Submitted: Friday, May 13, 2005

Add this poem to MyPoemList
5 out of 5
0 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about The White Noise Of Prison Bars by Ryan Frazier

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?

Read poems about / on: hair, sun, time