It worries me that there's someone on my mind who I don't see.
The kind of nervousness you feel when
meeting someone new
who you don't quite trust enough to say,
My heart bursts like autumn while you licked your lip to get a small
drop of iced coffee from running down your chin.
The kind that sickens your leg a bit,
makes it thrust forward--
a crunch and pain in your ankle.
Is this what love is, or just a fog soup
that's stepped off a pier in San Francisco
and turned to New England
to learn more about how weather will begin
to be erratic while internally
what is constant is turning and molten
and that's what you should most likely always
rely on: earth.
Plain American Language
I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...
and placed it inside/my philosophy...
Monday, October 13, 2008
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