Archive for December, 2010
Nothing to say but what a day
How’s your boy been
Nothing to do, it’s up to you
I’ve got nothing to say but it’s O.K.
Not my words
His or hers
My shoes are wet again
I guess I’ll hang my snowflakes out to dry.
By virtue of loneliness I babble.
Once a strange child seeks company.
Will someone witness this loneliness?
It is laying empty in the daylight.
It is daylight.
In all things, I babble.
Seeking to find home in clarification of an object beyond
reason or sound, to know that object
as I know my heart; uneasy, or as I know my breath;
tiring; but not as I know my words
something to be carelessly thrown at objects who
never deserved them. Did I mean this madness?
Surely madness is meant, and if not
Baby Hitler. Asleep.
He dreams a Jewish mother
whose breast is an atom bomb.
We will die in his lips.