Tuesday, June 17, 2014

37

37


An accident waiting to happen
A waste of fresh air
He moistened his thumb and started counting
A clip-on earring
I need you like coming home in winter
Amoeba
I've been on six-till-two and then four overs
I have fallen in love with a stick
An air-raid shelter or two
The view over the lake
Two perfect poached eggs
We'll never get there and it's always raining
A twilight shapeless and desultory
This is an objective of sorts: survive
Ruler
He climbed in darkness looking for sweet air
I'm late, but for what?
Dear-Sweet-Jesus-God-in-Heaven I am done
90 Degrees
It's not that we are old, but we are weary
I am not quite a Catholic
I am a compass, you a circle drawn
No, this is tired
I am a pencil; you erase
40 Years or so ago, give or take a war
I can't stay awake
My fat brother in law
Rose of white prefabs above a dirty brook
It was a hopeful time,  we all leaned with the wind
White Hot Steel


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