Thursday, March 22, 2007


The story made sense
When the following happened:

The water came from the south
The night got wet
With efforts to
To make the earth
Produce papers
For poets to write on

The leaves
On the trees
Are full of messages
Poetry always
Grows in a tree

Therefore rain
Is necessary for a poem
And the poem
Is always attracted
To the cloud
And the cloud
Is always above
A poet’s head

And water becomes ink
As it lands on
The skins of the world
It transforms itself
Into meaning

Rain helps thirst
It’s never good
To write thirsty

Then poetry
And rain
Are the same thing

Monday, March 19, 2007


Older man
With a blue
At the cinema

You should have
Stayed down
But you came up

And when the
Senior citizen
Got murdered
(In the flick)
And he screamed
Those awful reverberations
Just before being
Thrown in the water

You got up from
Your seat
And walked down
The stairs
At a fast pace

It would have been better
To keep a distance

I would have
Been able to fool—around
With my lady friend

Perhaps you got
The wrong idea
I consider myself
A nice guy