A poem, or a poem
It is legitimate, to me at least
To see the words fall all over
Recongregate and reconvene
Leaving a sentence without thought
An idea without meat
And a thought without....thinking?
Perhaps this is far out of reach
Collapsing spasms of regret with laughter
I see the trepidations of this idea
combining with glimpses of stardom
And a rusty fork I call my own
Heading, alas, towards a home without windows
And a dead tree in the backyard
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Sentences do not end in periods
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2 comments:
a thought without thinking!intuition, who is writing?
i stare out my window at a brick wall and a rusty machine with an attached pulley thinking, zyniac is right!
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