Tuesday, June 5, 2012

September or Singapore







How odd it all is
hers and hers and his
Poet of Les Miserables

I sip my bud light with lime
after photo sessions
with my kid

he makes her his
The reason things happen
never removes the sting
I did all I could
I don't know how
to change a damn thing

So I search out peace
in a raindrop
on a blade of grass
as the shadows
of clouds pass

reminding myself
universes once ulogized
should not be idolized
but vaporized like
the day after
the day after
I was born

something
I can't remember
but this was
only last September