full of the lovely ness
breeding like slow rabbits
lazy in a drooling summer sun
yellow with the fire of atoms

the winter is the cold bitter
cook taking a ciggarette in the
back alley, the food is
done lets wait for the lunch rush

these things come to me
as i listen to her words dripp
off her mouth like pearls dropped
into the surface of my skin

the weather is a spine chilled
in season and roasted in the openness
of rotation and dissolution, are they
am I listenting to the absolute thunder

03/31/2002

Posted on 03/31/2002
Copyright © 2024 Travis G Finborg