Sunday, August 9, 2009

January: Year-day 12

January: Year-day 12 "Most men lead lives of quiet desparation", dictating to their secretaries, bending over their unborn children, skipping stations on an evening express, earning, spending, male, female--I and you pitched among them as if we were horseshoes still in the air, the changing air, arcing toward a steel stem, hoping our pitchers' powers more than fair. For days moaned whistles have rushed from the spaces between the windows in our livingroom's west wall. For years we/ have lived with each other, thinly/ hiding faces/ behind our faces, unable to halt the gathering tombs that barely let us be sisters, brothers. -

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Rhodingeedaddee is my node blog. See my other blogs and recent posts.