I swear sometimes I am only depressed on cloudy days...today is sunny...this poem has nothing to do with either...does anyone actually get what I am trying to say...anyways...here's to you words.
Graduate perspective
Sown to contrast
As change
Better than
Trailers
Pitchforks
And rubbish
Magnolia pie
And Rhubarb vespers
Cackling to dawn
Pouring gasoline
Lighting charisma
Celibate as a monk
In the seventies
Loving Betty
And muff
From Beaver creek
A pond of lonely ducks
Bread to be valium
Fish to heroin
And crawfish as celluloid
Idle beak
Sifting
Choosing dead blood
Herron blue
Set
Red versus orange
Blue on mercy
And sanguine burning
For a honeymoon
A honey moon
Leaving home
For jezebels
Graduate perspective
Sown to contrast
As change
Better than
Trailers
Pitchforks
And rubbish
Magnolia pie
And Rhubarb vespers
Cackling to dawn
Pouring gasoline
Lighting charisma
Celibate as a monk
In the seventies
Loving Betty
And muff
From Beaver creek
A pond of lonely ducks
Bread to be valium
Fish to heroin
And crawfish as celluloid
Idle beak
Sifting
Choosing dead blood
Herron blue
Set
Red versus orange
Blue on mercy
And sanguine burning
For a honeymoon
A honey moon
Leaving home
For jezebels
abyssia:
I may not always get what you're trying to say, but I try. My responses are usually based on my initial reaction. I always appreciate the writing in itself, but no, I don't always get you. I wish I could say otherwise, but you asked and so, you get the truth. When I do think I get you, I am actually afraid to presume to say as much. I am intimidated by not only your writing, but the depth it points to. So why do I keep reading? Because that same depth draws me to.
madi:
Sorry, for being a bitch. I don't want to fight w/ you.