Hit Title Date Added
The Call
in memoriam Cecil Young

I am addicted to words, constantly ferret them away
in anticipation. You cannot accuse me of not being prepared.
I am ready for anything. I can create an image faster than
Sunday Afternoon
Beyond the strings of water
clinging to the windowpane,
The Philosopher In Florida
Midsummer lies on this town
like a plague: locusts now replaced
by humidity, the bloodied Nile
The Plunder House
Tired of the empty fields,
the saw grass stretching out of ditches,
the yellow-petalled weeds by the roadside,

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4/11/2021 8:29:43 AM #