Saturday, June 07, 2008

Summer Poem

To say
swelter in the
line of looping
heat over fist
light up the area
with candor
and bliss
all the eager
monkey gunk
like nothing
before the after
a sudden shift
and we get
what we deserve
a blanket in summer
a dollar bill
hanging from
a torn lip.


Anonymous Anonymous said...


11:52 AM  

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