Thursday, July 7, 2011

great poems

great poems should leave you
w/ambulance sirens in yr ears
w/yr spleen lumped in yr throat
w/a headstone on yr solar plexus
w/a bouquet of dry sticks in yr hands
w/phantoms in the branches of yr lungs
w/the sensation of the buttons of yr spine
against the cold steel of the morgue drawer
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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