Poetry Archives Bio
September 13, 2010
8:35 AM
Küche

oxygen
is the silent degrader
of things

            the fruit
            rots on the vine
            my thoughts

   decrease
   the understanding
   i promised

       i would not
       confess
       but the sun is up


"morning
i say to
the noise upstairs

         I let my
         self
         be known

    & my fork
    (two for $2.99
    too  says

           18/0STAINLESS
           CHINA
           and i think

 
  to my
  self
  like this

        at breakfast
        by the
        window

      passes
      the glory of
      god