observe them drinking the laughter out of the air, smell
their vowels; taste their assonance and echo. I still feel
my favorites drinking my sweat, biting
my tongue, sucking alliteration and active verbs
from my pussy. the words keep coming ~
see this wrinkling brow; caress this grey hair;
fuck these fingers which keep typing. I am
tired of dead poets around my dining room table.
FRIENDS: I've been absent for awhile. Living life, observing deaths and evaluating the future. I wrote this thinking about the passing of my friend Brenda Moossy.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
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1 comments:
Glad you are back, Christina. I missed you. I am sorry for the loss of your friend. I think of you often.
K.
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