Narph Writes a Poem About Nothing

by Narph   Nov 11, 2014


A spore contorted
on the floor, the porous
rubber ribbing of a shoe-sole
ground it down into a mound, the
swollen footstep left no sound.
What once had substance, and a crust
now swelters deeper into dust,
another musty crumbling
crams itself in snug,
another crumb caught kissing
fibers of the rug.

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