23 Wednesday May 2012
Posted in poems
1977
rain falling so heavy it made circular ripples in the sheet of water already across the road. In the morning the paper said the King is Dead
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
Genesta Road & night wormholes: tuning fork
morning wormhole: breakfast in bed
rain wormhole: classic
years wormhole: 1975
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it is all just bullshit anyway.....
ab ovo usque ad mala
I am the "little armored one", moving gently through life. Hoping to safeguard my sensitivities with layers of words and the expression of thought. Shielding my mirror neurons at times, or tasting music and spinning till I'm dizzy. Every moment here is a gift.
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