i ran the wrap around you;
the sheet with a knot.
i tore the sole of your shoe
by running on the ice
you forbid me from.
and it was me who called
at three o'clock sunday morning
just to test you, to see
if you'd answer and you did,
but you couldn't stay on.
================================
am, at the moment, focused on recovering myself out from the swamp of poems posted while i was away from the crit poet. thanks reid for the welcoming return (ever a beacon). as for my own poetry... i'm all about chit chat at the moment, aren't i? above is proof that i'm currently crap at the poetic form itself, though i've been endulging in poetic theory and grumblings about life along side the arch (which will soon be available on po'et'ship.
will attempt some more poetrite tonight, will post the results tomorrow, wish me luck...
p.s. i bought a car today, holy ef
1 comment:
Good luck, and congrats on the car! (And you call this crap? Puh-lease! How's that for eloquence! Huh!)
Post a Comment