An award winning attorney with green for resolution. Each poem filed
into appropriate blots, until expressed rather late in tailing off. Each
award fished from the finest water. The waves were as tender as Brooklyn
sub-let. The change of firing, when only you can read thru. Thru goes
the endless wile, a patch on some stasis trumpet while bringing up the
mostly forgotten. Cold piano tone of a sump pump for given over. More
radiation from various sources, not even a light by excuse. Change
forgot the dream of which the night seemed filled. Rattle of drum
snares, somehow impressive.
2 comments:
Allan, I just wanted to say how much I like what you have been posting at Takignthebrim.blogspot. I never get around to commenting these days, but I did want to tell you this, and so here I am doing. Really there has not been one poem you posted that I didn't enjoy. Thank you.
thanks. I appreciate your saying so.
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