Monday, May 31, 2010

The Boy (Busted)

Eyes of worry,
those tiny dark universes,
hover over words
that clamor 
like horses at the gate
to be set free.
But he restrains them 
into orderly blocks.
Oh, so orderly,
with pauses in between,
such artful interludes,
each phrase thought out 
before spoken well
as though good diction
could save his soul.
It just might.

Copyright 2010 JO Janoski

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