the poems on this page:
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< gratuitous wordage >
< normal spring day >
< none of us >
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< gratuitous wordage >
a lot of people ask for coffee
and a little kiss in the morning
using only the words they need
but poets
(and you've guessed it by now)
kill for the pleasure of it
- - -
< normal spring day >
At the nursery i get a cactus.
To be truthful, i get two.
The cacti add up.
And the flowers are beautiful,
but I resist.
Thank goodness,
as i'd just have to plant them.
"Or more likely buy them and not plant them",
say my yellow primroses from last year
madly blooming but still in their nursery pots.
I stop for a donut.
Two, to be truthful.
Well, to be closer to the truth.
Then i continue
with the new leaves
and birds and birds.
A tall tree i can't identify
seems to be steaming in the sun,
but is really
filling the air with cottony seeds.
My dog chases a dragon fly,
the first i've seen.
- - -
< none of us >
none of us is supposed to mention
how close we become those burning
figures pinned to the sides of a
religion and none of us is supposed
to say we saw them come to gather
us like a secret we can't guess
and when they turned we saw
they looked like us
but then
they always look like us
- - -
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