Kansas City
Every home is a cottage
in the thick forest in the brain
dripping with emotion
the hard wood is also at your feet
nothing you do is right until you see
the light through the trees can slice
this afternoon into pieces of your life
poems
then the puzzle of putting a direction
together
walking away with nothing but unfit
language
that would explain things in pictures
and the red car bouncing like a ball
hauls who will be out til grunge is an
end all.
Comments
Post a Comment