Skygodlin
By James Dye



Imperfect broken glass and gems,
imperfect sharp streets, juxtaposed
under a crooked skygodlin,
that hides covered with covert blades
surrounded by stalks of saw-grass,
and a lonely angel and I
in October, after the smog
deceived, to nth degree, the sky,
were swept about this broken world,
this flawed & cracked road of time, as we
danced on noiseless feet and bled upon
the loadstones hold, our defeat echoed
the beat, crushed and desecrated our
beauty, or dreams, or gems, or glass
piece by jagged piece we fell apart
into imperfect cutting streets,
under a crooked skygodlin.
We're swept about this broken world.


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James Dye is a college student in Dubuque, IA, studying for his English major.