Friday, January 11, 2008

3 a.m.

two goldfish in the bowl
gills working away
like tiny, underwater

the snail inching
across the glass
like a restless spiral Buddha

my cigar glowing
like a ripe cherry
in the dim light

smoke climbing
the walls like a mesh
of gray vines

the ashes, the ashes
we all dont dream
This blog is updated irregularly and has nothing to do with the poet's output. The poet is actually disturbingly prolific. He writes about 5 poems per day. The pages are everywhere, even stacked in the bathtub.