The kid’s eye drifts across the sky,The airplane drifts,leaving sound like a yawn in pause.The moth slams to the flickering, cold, burning bulb,like a bubbling kid on a swing.The toad’s wet tongue’s out, as the buzzing fly curveslike a moth across nectar-filled flowers.The waxwing, drunk on overripe berries, throws herself,like a toad’s jump from a curious hand,onto the land.The moon’s gone under the seesaw,and it’s sun’s turn now.The pilot, collar coffee-stained,sighs,grabs the controller.The first flight’s launched by a fly.The abandoned berries,overripe.Moon’s turn again,the bulb switches on.
>>24682829>drifts twice in two sentenceseeeehhh
i wanted to show how the kid's eye got fixated and pulled into the airplane, mimicking the same driftlike if you're imagining the drift and brain associated the drift with that action, next drift also recalls the same movement (eyes and plane)
>>24682829Slap this on an aesthetic photo and submit to a instagram poetry mag. They’ll eat this shit up
