Tuesday, July 5, 2011

up to my armpits

up

to

my

armpits

in

sorrow



the

only

thing

that

offers

buoyancy



joy

is

a

black

sack

of

stones
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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