Friday, December 12, 2008
Poem -Lainson
a duck
with a mouthful of round rocks
thinking in an accent
rides his first streetcar
he's out of farm fresh eggs
and the store's too far for blading
the streetcar the sunlight
the sunlight breaks through the gray clouds
in only two spaces
and their shafts of light
crisscross like chopsticks
with a mouthful of round rocks
thinking in an accent
rides his first streetcar
he's out of farm fresh eggs
and the store's too far for blading
the streetcar the sunlight
the sunlight breaks through the gray clouds
in only two spaces
and their shafts of light
crisscross like chopsticks
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
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