Friday, April 01, 2011


tops of feet asleep, a hotelroomfloor
air like silt, rich and flavored
flowers, a metallic production, so many
factories must produce this excessive

amount of... I am afraid, crouch, carpet
hurts, the outside too temperate
to bear after the raw march after all
the indecision, and then, all the deciding

1 comment:

Renaissance Girl said...

The last stanza kills me.