Sunday, August 9, 2009

January: Year-day 21

January: Year-day 21 It can take so long to create a poem as this one, so image-connecting long, the maker's nearly wizened by the song/ he finally sings, he gives a small home. One watching him might think he'd rather roam through cities and countrysides, beat a gong, or jingle a tambourine for a throng of dopes than wrestle words that slip & foam. How odd a decent place of residence for words/ must come through a kind of defeat of them, that only as the user pins/ each/ for those moments when it most makes sense, when its powers and his/ properly meet, does he quicken a lodging/ where spirit wins. -

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