the bellbird watches from afar,
divining the time at which to enter—
scraping metal, elements melting,
shrill chatter, seesawing the earth’s
slow and strange arpeggio—
it chimes in arcane rhythms
signalling the drama of endurance—
thinking always, sounding ourselves
out into the aether and feeling for walls,
and finally for the door from which
we’ll exit, sensing no more,
only knowing, travelling and signalling
like the bellbird’s endless beeping,
like light, like heated plasma, like fire

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s