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Published: 2006-12-31 19:28:55 +0000 UTC; Views: 212; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 3
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"Are you not weary of ardent ways?Tell no more of enchanted days..."
In 1989
before I loved the rain:
drip-pit-patting
impatient beauty
for untamed america
(who maybe loved me once)
lost in that underground
carving pinocchioan spirits
from innocence, poetry, buddha
upon stones that sink
like all epitaphs
now found
skipping memories
for the laugh
now gone
sailing north into stars
-can't be wrong
whistling familiar songs
of experience
(I pray)
"Are you not weary of ardent ways?
Tell no more of enchanted days..."