Wednesday, May 6, 2015

from p1. on the Monday after Prom


  • Sifting through your
    too-big pockets, which
    never did fit your hands
    like mine did.

    There are twelve pennies
    which is too many for
    anyone to carry.

    I never did like change.


  • A single thread holds
    the worn-down
    heart-strings together
    then,

    he hangs up.


  • A rush and song of water

    leads
         us
              down

    to the trees.


  • I joke a lot,

    I know.

    I just don't want
    to cry.

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