THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



Legth for Labors of Progress...

It always seemed so logical you, you spinning your head and face around.
Denial, secrets, want-to-have's leaning on shoulders closely found.
She had her in headlocked stare; eyes engulfed in charity.
Her and she and I cannot collaborate: thoughtless commonality.
Posted by

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)