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.
