Dominance of Pink

Looks like the world’s imploding,
while some poor soul got shot out
of a chimney.  The rest of the people
are rushing toward center.   Why even

the trees seek the white-hot light.
Will we recognize the world when
the wind stops blowing, the brush in
the hand still painting acrylic?


Based on Painting the Pinks


But Not From the Dark Side

The green river is
covered with slime. Trees
are growing at an angle on
the side of the hill, where
two people on horses climb,

where there may be a path,
but I can’t see it.  The wind whips
through the aforementioned trees—
green, blue, a touch of purple
looks like berries.

The beast is nowhere in the picture.
I think she might have just given
birth to wonder rather than danger.
“Nothing gold can stay,” says Frost.
Nothing here spells D-A-R-K,

nothing but slime for imagination.


based on Fantascape #12 – The Beast