Lovely people at oddball magazine (READ IT!) published an old poem of mine! Honoured.
I care because you do
I let a monster into your safari.
I apologized but [and you apologized too]
It is possible that we could
never see each other again
create a fictional future forever in moments for ourselves that feed into ourselves
again and again
But then again it’s creeping me out.
Considering to drink solids as I do
when I reach the espresso’s end,
that is brave, I feel.
You have no idea.
When the grain comes to the tongue I begin to ink:
What am I doing? Protocol has run amok!
Sit down and chew, for god’s sake or you’ll surely choke.
And then a similar dilemma. Can I walk and drink soup? Will they find me drowned?
Eating and drinking–so exclusive, yet bafflingly communist. I cannot do both, it seems,
Your words resonate in words I read. In movements of my legs. In pavement tightrope…
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