Friday, May 07, 2004

a work in progress

I started throwing images on paper to deal with some's what's
working itself out.

The blunt ache
of raising a son
Whose father
abandoned him
seeking gold and Nirvana
of the needle
the snort
the comfort of hops.
We ride a roller coaster
Subtle undulations
of hormones
the mistrust of age.
There are moments
each day
my heart is delicately
sliced open
lemon juice
dripped dripped
into the wounds.

I forage
thru my experiences
to find a salve
a reckoning
a bread crumb trail
of reasoning.
I implore
the forces larger
than myself
for strength
for tenderness
for the right words.

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