Tuesday, April 03, 2007

There is Never Enough

There was a sound like a rush of flames climbing
my femur. A pain similar to that of the weather which triggers
uncomfortable hobbling on two fake hips. The

titanium implants burned sockets, the soul.
I smell the recently cut grass of the little league’s
infield and outfield. Dandelions withered by the sun’s
radiance. A spark of transition showed a problematic collar
asphyxiating around the throat like a mushroom-cloud necktie.

I’ve got a few dollars to exchange for a beer
at the concession stand. I request my desire in front of a faceless mirror.


Blogger Foundation said...

There isn't is there - ever enough. I read Steinbeck's "Journal of a novel" last night and he admitted to wishing he'd never been born. Pathetic wretched man. But there are a lot like him.

One thing though - you should enable "links" to the posts on your blog

3:47 PM  

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