Memory Is Myth Poem by kendall thomas

Memory Is Myth



This is where the weeds grow.
The middles slope in
where no path comes.

How tedious
this multitude of stone.

Pay no mind.
They were only cutouts
spinning their days
endlessly into nothing.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Marie Bliss 17 January 2010

I love this one Kendall, very genius.

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