Tuesday, November 09, 2010

No, I do not need to read at your parade. Your collective costumes, lean smiles (right hooks), cutting marks into paper like sacrificial lambs: I shall survive keeping my pen in my pocket keeping my word pinned to the outer corners of my mouth keeping the bird in the house. Although you do not feel the waves, the eye flat against the wall, the curved curved curved attack of absence: hardness is imminent. And what a gift.


Post a Comment

<< Home

unique visitor counter