Poets are used to seeing each other freaking out. Math nerds, not so much (apart from A Beautiful Mind that is).
"speedreich"
missives from far marrows
migrate tigress
in the jumble jamboree
adjust small failures
where i put my pyre-crumbs
passes from eyes
only this green placemat
garish in the bare dawn
going like bird migrants
going like smoke
wingshapes of weird love
warp the harp remaining
Saw the ghost of Elvis on Union Avenue.
No comments:
Post a Comment