Is what I feel sometimes I am…
hiding in the reeds somewhere
where the gurgle I sometimes
recognize as my voice is sending
somekind of message out where
there are people. It really has an
ancient feel….earth and water in
proximity and mixed…as the
metaphor for my mind.
Trapped in a simulacrum of what
I thought I should be, or, a replica
of what I thought I once was.
(That’s a twenty buck phrase there,
Dude, step up)
A brook, with it’s rocks is like a Calder
gazebo, where the motion is constant,
frozen….like so many people’s lives.
no one said the end would be pretty.
ReplyDeleteMy poem is?
ReplyDeleteeecummings "A light goes on in a toiletwindow."
Me "cut the taffy when you've had enough."
there's a rule...you have to cut the taffy off somewhere
ReplyDelete