Monday, October 17, 2011


far off far off far off
editing this hulking mass
I'm a poet pretending to write novels
about what I have to say

the sun an old man creaking between
high rise apartment buildings
for the unemployed

I've a copy of a book
a bridge unto the afternoon
soon I'll be running miles
soon I'll be dying by the minute

I'm dying now
with everyone else
I'm happy

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