Tuesday, February 15, 2005


There’s so much
we haven’t seen
or been through

take a war and
poke your eyes out
that gets close to it

To the gist
the smell of
burnt hair

the grease still
smoldering from
an overturned car.

I am the war
the breath of mother
as she watches

the field burn
the tiniest lips possible
stuck on the country’s

There are no fields
of cranberries

on the way to death
just certain flames that
leap from sand

never proven
that rock could burn
until today.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Valentine's Day Special


You’re gonna feel a little
pinch, that’s all,

then the sun will come down
to finally exert itself

while you miss the real moon
that stabs at the calendar of march

Toe to toe with the weather
you’ll hit upon the idea

that scars are nothing but
drops of water

they run this way
they run that wa

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