Mould

Posted on by valen

End of the queue
and start of the process.
Threading eye of needle,
delicate contortion of self,
steel embraces shoulder.
Forced myself through it:
square block into circle;
all to find a home
and throw myself into it.

The wave breaks the shore,
the man emulates the wave.
Wave breaks shore into grain;
man breaks back into spirits.
If it fails, we’ll just queue again.

Published by valen

A member of Singapore-based writing collective /stop@BadEndRhymes ("/s@ber"), Valen dwells in the swamp of poetry. He has been published in various publications. He has also performed his work at the Arts House, the Singapore Art Museum, and in various dingy bars.

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