20 September 2011

Sharper and Duller

I would not understand
how from trapped within a tornado
I stayed straight as a pencil
my sharp pointed led feet
spinning hastily on its eye
(though I doubt the prick was felt by anything)
my palms met above my shoulders
arms covering my ears from whirling cries and curses
my dull eraser head somehow remembered
how I could barley lift
an eye open to witness
such a twisted demolition
collecting all too familiar nouns
giving them flight only to throw
down their spirit
I would not understand
how scribbling the disaster
spared me from destruction
somehow leaving me
sharper and duller