Am Gone (Stream II)
Your elliptical argument
That spins mathematical in the air,
Air vent, air wear,
So much hot air.
Vented through the vent,
Out into the atmosphere.
Adds to global warming
as you warm to your argument;
Which now becomes round,
doing the rounds.
Sounds of round vowels,
Making me howl
Like a howling dog.
Howling in the hurricane
of your torrent.
Like a Waterfall,
The water falls,
And I fall and I,
I am turned to stone,
Stoned by your medusa gaze.
I am fazed.
Stopped stone dead in that gaze,
Am erased.
No longer extant,
I disappear,
Dissipate into the air,
Become thin air,
Am gone.
poem by Paul Brookes
Added by Poetry Lover
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