Quincey Burkhalter Poems

I dreamt of perfect 45 degree angles
Not sure what that means
I’ve never been about
Absolutes
...

I am
Trading the life
Of underwater breathing
Struggle
...

Butterflies
Holding the lids of my eyes open
Opalescence of wakeful dreaming
Rainbows of misty thought
...

Just like the blues feel
The raw
Painful chords
Jealousy
...

Do my legs have memory?
Do they remember
The standing,
The waiting?
...

Oh sparrow, carry me away
In fancy, in soft chirping melody
Mixed with pollen, with wind
...

I have a plea to my memories
Please stop bombarding me

Stop ringing me up at 3 in the morning
...