Wednesday, January 19, 2011


A man seated
quietly in corner of room,
old mangled rorange chair,
rocking involuntarily invisible,

greet him dodgedly on the cold war cold unkempt floor
scurry computer quick clicking head down, hair matted
recliner watching over me, hauntingly empty-

like hazelnut shaped dumplings
golden raisin glitter
and haggard feet passing through passing through
aged only to die.

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