Between my legs
your table finds
its edges folded
over my deep
crease increasing
I think now to
leave
the world of
writing as an
exercise in futility,
as civil hostility
advises me.
Feed your soul on
early decadences
and trim down
into adulthood,
cut in half your passions,
tighten your resolve
to absolve yourself of
all your
visions.
AEM Nov 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
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