2229
7.37
6.ii.26
strokes
of lightning on a page
I thought you were the
kettle
but you were the ride-on
out there
a wash is like the soft pedal
wallaby in thicket and thump
my father was a fan of
disorganized religion
a stillness, a cloud stuck
calf under where a wire
would be
I let an insect out –
unknown make
it’s better for them out
there
found the money in the
drawer
waiting
I really wish it would rain
fire resumes
like to see ink spread
that was out there back in
the day
see the worlds together here
open a wound and walk in
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.