Tuesday, July 09, 2013


there are four of us
each one abandoned
in this small, hot town

And usually,
the night is so thick
I automatically begin
waving words in the air

Shuffling them
sorting, pantomiming
their sad, wandering odds
until they fall away, decay...


No comments:

on a break (Winter Break)

It was so rude of Big A to cheerily text me "one more year" on New Year's day and then explain that in 2025 Nu would be off to...