Tuesday, May 25, 2010

the same song forever

the cat sits upon
the windowsill
staring at ghostly
dandelion seeds
floating through the air

she paws at the
mesh of the screen
thinking they're
alive, something
to catch

& i think of when
they'll finally dump
my urn by the sea

how the specks
of ash will drift
on the wind

looking like a swarm
of something living

then as sea birds cry
it'll be all scattered
on the surface
of the ocean

moving again

in & out
in & out
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.

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