Sunday, June 14, 2009

It Was Chilling.


I shake a delicate finger
at those who stop dreaming
only to be still with 
the mad drive of a
mean, elaborate eternity
here for you & there
in me as we whisper
together and rob a language
beneath the shine of a
delirious sky.


A poem, from 1997.

Refrigerator poetry kit, bless you and your efficient economy.  

No comments:

Post a Comment