Sunday, July 5, 2009

remind me why I liked brautigan when I was young


I rose to the sounds of fish weeping,

while wind in the palms echoed lament.

Shadows covered over the glint of the moon

and danced on tears and scales.


I tried to console them with metaphors,

amusing stories and poems,

until all was connected to everything,

and the world poured over the shore.


"Death gives us depth", I said

showing them pictures of the blind,

those living there who could still see, 

but were always standing between.


In the end they remained dispossessed 

by all that was said and done.


So I spread out crumbs...

on the water.



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