June 2008
1 post
Poem
MENTAL DISTURBANCES See more. Track Loss. Human, twist the atom dancers so errant young waves, those vagrant grams of loose, cleave to the crux. Impede. That's your part. I tend to forget now I picked her out of the lot, carrying food like a gypsy. Barefoot with the vegetables. Balancing full wine glasses, round bowls of...