Thursday, August 7, 2014

New Facebook Page & Poem

An aging prostate sitting amid spilled urine and beer. A gathering of the lonely. The tired. The fed up.


Bees grazing autumn flower gardens searching for lost blossoms
A dead hornet resting upon a foggy lens of dust atop a forgotten glass of water
lines crossing stucco walls that look like shadows but are actually formless ideas turned liquid and implicit
they drip away with the slow plummet of the sun 
some are unhappy about what will happen
but it will happen
so be unhappy
I should have eaten my vegetables

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