Sunday, August 3, 2008

the end is the best, if the start never clicked

she
_________hogs
the pillows and blankets

its
not
the first time
i had to deal
with the
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ §§§§§§§§§§§ ....... leaving
of long lips,
or the legs that had me wrapped
around and clutched.
a fashion of constriants
it was the first real time
i felt that the
world would
enclose on myself.
and the only thing
I could show for anything
was that
I had a dying love of the
arts and song.
no woman would stop
the writing
no matter how they tried to change me...
it couldn't be done
over night or in
a days of yelling

in daze of
```````````````````` uncertainty
I wept for her because
i saw
her for the helpless
hopeless puppy eyed
clench
the
dog bowl
of dried food
untouched,
the water with hair
in it.
the door would open and the mutt
would run and jump up and down
humping my leg
and finally I saw it...the end
was in sight

freedom
is the spirit
of
wanders
and panhandlers

I wish
to be
poor
so
I tapped
my heels
three times
and
said
"there's no place like
the road"

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