An empty glass, nothing
But amber residue, foam
Gumming up the bottom
I’ve watched it congeal
This past hour, waited
For something to break
There’s a notion it might
Be me, by the way my hands
Can’t keep from trembling
As I watch eyes watch
The world pass by from
A screened-in window

02/01/2003

Posted on 02/01/2003
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