So today I worked on my comps (WC Williams climbs the charts as my interest in Paterson grows, while Auden continues to plummet), exchanged some emails with new acquaintance I made through the Geek, worked on my chapbook, looked at some board game essays I'm working on, and wrote a little ditty I'll post here in a moment. I've been at this coffeehouse since 9am--it's now about 2:15 and I really want to go home. I have a feeling that I might be opening up some wine when I get home...
I have a gamebox full
of dark glass
anyone can assemble
into a portrait
of beings so small
they refuse to be named
and pass through
to the molten heart
of the planet
where they discuss
their memories
of the sheep that floated
on thin, impossible legs
over long fibers
of astonishing green grass.
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