Untouched by Master’s voice


On the wings of halcyon

she soars

Amorphous memories

Dryer lint of pastel hue

Ill shaped boxes

filled with warm day’s fancy

Bits of lace

torn jagged from passing hem

Cruel token of child forgotten

Punted passed and kicked

from hall to closet

then locked away

Behind block walls

puke green and shit smeared

etched by dirt caked nail

stained with breath wasted



she soars

final flight

bon voyage fuckers

Free of tomorrow

she waits

for armed angels

to lead her down the hall



About Phil

Hi, my name is Phil. I’ve managed to escape the corporate world, rid myself of excess belongings, travel the country extensively in my old Winnebago, and find a new home on a beautiful barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. I define myself as: a free spirit, a writer, a philosophical anarchist, a poet; a lover of nature, a lover of art, a protector of animals, as well as a devoted friend and partner
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2 Responses to Preflight

  1. SauceBox says:

    Great work! Love the structure of it! You’ve got my follow. Check out my comedy blog and give it a follow if you like it!

    Liked by 1 person

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