Monday, July 25, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Tiny Rabbit
angel's wings and the strings of things
the words connect and the shutter stays open
open for more light at midnight
as the moon shine's on the quiet moss
one more word to hang from the clothes line
one more photo to fall in love with
one more minute to squeeze the rabbit's heart
until he is limp in my hand
settled but not dead
quiet but not silent
empty but fulfilled
angel's wings and the strings of things
the words connect and the shutter stays open
open for more light at midnight
as the moon shine's on the quiet moss
one more word to hang from the clothes line
one more photo to fall in love with
one more minute to squeeze the rabbit's heart
until he is limp in my hand
settled but not dead
quiet but not silent
empty but fulfilled
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Saturday, July 09, 2011
Thursday, July 07, 2011
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
Thirty five years
holding, wadding, stuffing it
pressing it down and trying to throw it all up
Thirty five years
of thinking it through, reliving it
being it
that dark blanket with it's frayed edges
that place in the universe that sucks you in
turning your insides
out
Thirty five years
I walked this place
my ego in my hand
and I thought of how small it is
how big
it was along the banks
thirty five years of fear
became a small joke in it's nothing place
I am enormous with power
enough to save that small rabbit
running in that nothing graveyard with a handful of
some bodies
Did they chase away the crows?
I did.
Thirty five years and everything is gone
turned into something else
just a shitty little town
without a bait shop
or a silo
or the broken child
the sea wall is still holding it all together
the dead dog has gone to dust
Thirty five years of crouching behind the door
flung open and now quietly shut.
holding, wadding, stuffing it
pressing it down and trying to throw it all up
Thirty five years
of thinking it through, reliving it
being it
that dark blanket with it's frayed edges
that place in the universe that sucks you in
turning your insides
out
Thirty five years
I walked this place
my ego in my hand
and I thought of how small it is
how big
it was along the banks
thirty five years of fear
became a small joke in it's nothing place
I am enormous with power
enough to save that small rabbit
running in that nothing graveyard with a handful of
some bodies
Did they chase away the crows?
I did.
Thirty five years and everything is gone
turned into something else
just a shitty little town
without a bait shop
or a silo
or the broken child
the sea wall is still holding it all together
the dead dog has gone to dust
Thirty five years of crouching behind the door
flung open and now quietly shut.
Monday, July 04, 2011
Sunday, July 03, 2011
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