Plain American Language

I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Untitled (needs a new title & some work on line breaks, sugestions?)

Love, when I think of you,
a taste of bad rhubarb molts in my mouth
and moves
upward into my eye,
an almond of loneliness

It's when I look for lost thing
that I always find you
[tabbed here]There you are,
in the cupboard
in my pocket
under the vase...

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