Monday, April 9, 2007

ok dammit, a poem

Want Year

This spring’s will ebbs

can’t last the thin run

euphoria’s high altitude

crabs along the branches

and blues

in pools

a long day’s hot bored dismissal archives

perspective into parchment

and fall’s

awaiting some lung’s thirsty

exhalation

so long later

a whole winter’s being’s

still

awaiting.

No comments: