December 2010
8 posts
Reading and Writing
When I hear nothing
Then the added weight is more than my body through my feet
Rocking my fingertips to sleep - the children of my hands
A hard day's night
Listen to the heard
All with the heads scooning tunes of disarray.
Laying with heads in the fallen piles of fire
Tired from the raking neighbors and
Risen clay
Do you hate your model or the plow?
Coddled by our baby’s bottle solid orange and muddy
Full throttled to the pedal steeling out our blues meal
Hummed in drumming body circles and
Dummy putty
The radio is
Selling everything
Even my...