There is a big, black hole in my eye.
It reminds me
Of the spaces between tree branches,
Between the oaks and maples
On Longmeadow Street in fall:
How they dwell in the wind
Cry in the cold
And the trees wait to grow.
Plain American Language
I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...
and placed it inside/my philosophy...
Saturday, March 24, 2007
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2 comments:
I like this one; it's very charming. But is the misspelled "hole" intentional?
oh haha, yes it is. good call.
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