Round and round
THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
Without
I don't trust the validity of your stigmata,
And loving success more than I you don't trust mine.
Even so, the lunatic sun leaps out of her nightie.
Birds gawk, people squeal, as usual.
Circling memories that keep me stuck,
Remembering words that prop me up,
Reading our sad epistles,
Reading our sad epistles.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Without
Posted by
Anonymous
at
10:47 PM
Labels: mc guimond, poem
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1 comment:
I think I understand but I am not sure if I agree....actually I can't tell which angle to look at
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