Poem By Kyle Harbinger

that morning when it all made sense
you talked jibber jabber.

the sparrows hung themselves


we looked out the window

you with the eye of magic,
me going blind.

every night, you knelt beside your bed
and lied,
and the sparrows kept dying.

trees shot pool in the smoky billiards
of my mind;

in yours, I’m not so sure;
but when you knelt down
all the world made sense
and collapsed.

in mine,
8 ball
corner pocket.

in yours,
the sparrows were singing like angels.
when really
they were already dead.

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Suggestions For A Title Anyone?

their names were pasted on musical notes
as we took the journey through the cackling forest,
the plants sprouting
and chinging change