I guess you could say ink and paper make the writer, and I guess that's why I choose not to use them.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
late afternoon Hyattesville
Put the rhyme on paper,
car horn police sirens,
weighing down eternities,
like that cobweb book case slouching
at the center tired and laden with
(unread) books, slumber
a fantasy unbelieving enough to unmake us all
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