| All those poems blew right past you lately
Without notice or at least without note
And so in fact may this effete critique if my luck holds.
I’ll just be sitting here on my dead ass,
Calculating smidgeons, counting coup,
Ticking off friends I’ve lost
Or thrown without thought to wolves,
And overall waiting for the empty sky to fall.
rcs.
Created on 12/10/2009 11:00 AM |
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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)