Basking
2nd Saturday prompt: reuse the words
can wash it away
but can never
drown it out [wholeheartedly]
her time there
remembering it
all too well
lake pontchartrain
the days before
the days after
there’d be no getting on
no getting out
no getting over
if words came
yeah maybe she’d actually
write it all down [someday chances were]
poisons and offbeat rare trinkets
kept high upon shelves
stumbled into murky bursts
all without rhythm
all without reach
there’d be no bond
yet back in the french quarter
it’s all mudslide hymns
paralyzed by holy water
where space is blank
where space is sopping
where lines emptied
nothing from nothing
begets nothing
no matter how you chunk it