Everyone,
thank you for all your comments on my last blog. I wrote this new piece for fun yesterday.
Check out my new piece at
a handful of stones here
Enjoy!
Chris
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Father Icarus
He hung a teaspoon
on the door instead
of a hat, fed us mud
instead of porridge.
At night we heard him
squirm in the confines
of a bed too small
for his page-like frame.
The dreams produced
were too big for his head
and often dripped through
the ceiling. One morning
I woke with men marching
on my lap. Another,
with giant ants, paprika-red.
The day he left, I found
him by my window, wearing
an Icarus suit, desperate
to fly even though the feathers
had been melted to his skin.
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