Is there anybody there? Wow.Another long period since I've posted on here. The last few posts were about my book and me urging you to buy it, in a roundabout way. I wrote this poem in a short , angry, dizzying jag and wanted to share it, in all of it's scrappy rawness. Maybe it's finished, maybe it isn't...I'm not sure. Let's see.
Guts in the Gutter.
There are guts in the gutter
Glistening like spring morning grass.
And I walk past them in the same fashion
To get to my office, my home, my lover’s throne.
There are children on the streets and shores
White eyed. Washed out of all the good stuff.
My eyes are locked forward
To get to my office, my home, my lover's throne.