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Old Letters I am reading old letters to a friend. From time to time I do this, try to sneak behind the curtains of prose catch a glimpse of my fingers in action, weed the root of all honesty. Words, under the stilted occupation of punctuation, subject to the laws of gravity’s grammar, maturing on the page, but unlike wine, lose all flavor, turn spontaneous thoughts into catch-phrase. In that moment as my eyes assimilate the comma and the onset, in the nucleus of a sound where creative material simmers, the hole has been pillaged, the trove emptied of content, unleashing shameless phrases to chase the line down into silence and heartfelt goodbyes. Goodbyes come too late. The pen moves under the invisible hand. The traces of footprints in the sand are left from boots I never wore. #Unreal #Poetry #AllanGould #Letters #Calligraphy #WordFlow #ShamelessPhrases #Goodbye Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.  CommentsComments are closed.
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