Saturday, April 24, 2010

love eventually becomes a ghost town

it closes faces up

that's what it does

where once there
was laughter

& the windows
of the soul shined

that's what love

closes faces up

like a ghost town

it's sad you see

b/c once the faces
opened up

wide as a new city

love does this first

all laughter & shining

but the same force
closes them up

it's sad i tell you

what else needs
to be said
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.