Monday, September 7, 2009

poem of the day 09.07.09

waiting on
poetry
is like
waiting
for the
laundry
to dry


i sing
my voice
my grandmother’s
whiskey bottle
rag


the autumn
all this death
i’m ready



the tabby cat
her nose
cold and wet
my heart
just the same


oh, how
i’ll knock
over
your couch
with my soul

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