there has always been
the minimal here
no dining room set
no living room set
no kitchen set
no children's beds
etc...
no purchases of newness
no uniformity
only rickety cardtables
third-hand chairs & shelves
hand-me-downs
from the dead
faded, mismatched,
chipped & scratched
a roomful of misfit sticks
of furniture
& to top it off
an old mattress upon the floor
the lopsided raft
of a capsized soul
going nowhere
just floating...
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.
Blog Archive
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2010
(103)
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July
(17)
- pick ax philosophy
- farther reaching than all the bridges i've burned
- until Loss moaned his name
- july beauties
- i awoke nauseated
- the mad lengths of the poet
- fools & demons
- staring at the plants
- this strange lonesome 40th summer
- wrecking balls & backbones
- hollow ghosts
- dying savior
- in a blink
- the burning man
- that searing singularity
- the greatest con
- misfit living
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July
(17)