You will not find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with you. Joseph Joubert

Wednesday, June 17, 2009


patriots out of blue
fuse in my wine like smoke out of pipe...
a day down on my chest
when my fancy is adolescent

i would'nt stand cradling the crib
picking at the moon
to sweat and cry
away with my fancy, i 'll walk down
the white white white path...

i'll wear stars in my ears
and have lashes row my tears
i'll swim to the mermaids blue
glued to the breast of water

one chance to live
my fancy across the grass
that line your eyes
one chance to live the pyramids
that has bandaged memories...

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