Abstraction of Wonder
Call this serrated:
a vibration of touch; a feeling of __________. We all get swindled, just like good old Isabella, such an idiot, such a….well…girl. What is it about the dark?
The same can be said for the others.
All senseless: the way a dampened hand can’t grip.
We heed warning but halfneck our hearts. All humped-up and lightly wedged and pretty – like a slipper shell.
Yes, the slight of hand trick gets old. There are no magicians.
In a gentle appearing fashion, those semi-swine, double-horned, dawn-lit goats, with their striking color, are nothing more than remnants. They gnaw; they hook rubber teeth, but they are truly protected.
It is the carnivore that wounds us all.
(which we could probably trace to the bible)
The first carnivore was the modern weasel.
(like I said, it could all go back to Man)
© Umansky 2010
blog of poet, leah umansky 
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