i have a problem with words.
us, we use them, we throw them
away, hold onto what they meant
but keep going as though they
were never said; or maybe we
hold on to the thought and watch
as it slowly falls from view, a
sort of leaf and we’re caught in canopy
Year: 2006
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caught in canopy
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just a mute
the lighthearted reality of not saying much is that, when you do say something at all, you’re generally expected to be profound, or to resonate a sense of worth within your words, when you may very well just want to be funny.
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tree
there is this tree,
towering, living
to be as shaded
reservoir of wind,
the subtle/nestled
shadow’s kin,
a warmth inverted,
deepened to the nerve
and thru, toward
skin’s
other layer, and
this tree,
holding,
lowering
itself
to me, holds
me up
and lets me
lie here,
a transparent,
meshed follower
of what
wind
may
grow.
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when walking,
when walking,
carpet/
rice/
pebbles/trees/roots/
leaves/limbs/body/
grasses/mud/ground/
dirt/beetles/ants/worms/
are all, directly,
from you treated.
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blades of the fan
blades of the fan
like lights, dashes
on a highway, speed
by on this edge-tipped
cd, “plea for peace:
take action,” and
slightly over
the insurance,
all-state, card
red-striped, white.
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‘re there and
i’m here
you’re there
it’s not distance,
just a stare–
you see?
you see?not the step kind,
but i
might as well
to seeyou
‘re there and i’m
here.
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nice quote #93331
there is little difference between an elected politician and an election politician, save a sense of urgency.
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The triumph of a writer is to look back
The triumph of a writer is to look back and see the world as changed, not because of them, but because of what they’ve done.