Saturday, January 22, 2005

wrote a poem last night.
and now you have to sit through it.

dusting
of our separation
making streets
a slushy drink
regurgitation lake
its winter break
so brave
it for me
face the flurries
hotly
with your shades on
like its January June
the furnace chimes
you comb your hair
the speaker vibes
a buzzing
box of beetles
from Brazil
I'm off the subject-
do you fear
we've sat here
for too long?
or that its time to
button sentiment
and blink in
goodbye smearing
colors into
one another
button
you can dig
and find
and press
to end this
posted at 11:30 AM |