It's just that damn cliche:I missour kiss. Your mouth wrestlingwith mine,with excuses and searching hearts, seeking For lost time. We were two wild birds fluttering wings,making noises, coos,next to the bookstore. Full of racks of used poets,all of them used, weathered,their author biosPeering at us through the windows. Through the rain. I wish I had … Continue reading stay
Tag: poems
a river in my hands
Rattling around…rattling around…somewhere in my head thissound is rattling,breathing, likea living thing…. This sound, breathingmurmuring…living river,which tumbles rocks,carries white, rising foamand eager swimmers This river full,life, verdant, green rootsgrasses on the bank,the slippering, long, thickfishwriggling into the muck,riding the curves, the… Water flowing, veinsof blood, of water,coursing through wantonbeating, ragingheart,this primal ride,the murmur risingto screamraging, … Continue reading a river in my hands
Writer Moe 