Thursday, June 7, 2007


He instinctively wrinkled around the corners of his eyes;
sunny orange of the curtains too bright, for his eyes, and him.

Nights, with their camouflaging neon lights, comforted him.
Days, with their consuming clarity, caricatured him.

He reluctantly tore himself apart from the remnants of night,
and looked hesitantly towards the remains of the day.


Anonymous said...

very, very nice. very nice.

Anonymous said...

thet wassnt me.
though i agree with that one also.

i'm lhauing it.

Spunky Monkey said...

Thank you anonymous and the non-anonymous anonymous.(NAA)

Evidently, no one else concurs with you guys.

Malaveeka said...


Tumba chennagide boy.
u rite wel indeed.

Spunky Monkey said...


But you wrote that much against will, didn't you? It shows, for that's when one's spelngs go bad.
But still, so aww-ful.

Malaveeka said...


I was trying to be kewl and hip.

Obviously, that didn't pan out.

But I really did love it, Dougie.

that girl in pink said...

hey, i'm totally dense about poetry!

just dropping in to say hey.

Spunky Monkey said...

@Malaveeka - ok u r kewl and hip.

@Girl in pink - Me too! Don't know why i wrote this. Clueless.

all or nothing said...

it's very pretty ya bitch.

(can't you write all short and pwitty ones like this?)

Spunky Monkey said...

I am primarily rant types ya.
These exercises in brevity happen very rarely.
And thank you. I personally like this one quite a bit.