The front door protests my arrival.
The whole house sags and nearly bleeds
when ever I am home.
The walls lean inward.
The floors have hardened.
Someday I will climb up and sit upon
the roof and watch it crumble.
From beneath a dusty pile of cement
and drywall, I will rest my head and sleep.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Memory of a Lover
in the pale
crisp fountain
made of marble
and brick
a yellow bird
is getting lost
in the snow
crisp fountain
made of marble
and brick
a yellow bird
is getting lost
in the snow
Monday, December 3, 2007
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