Baggage- Hell. I bring Cargo.
Salvageable only to a degree.
It can take pallets of sugarcoat
just to dress for the day.
And a box-car of make believe to
simply conjure the current
I’m the evergreen of
gone of the go… told ya
**NaPoWriMo 2011..Number 15
Twenty eight damn words isn’t poemin’, it’s sloganeering at best. I’ll be your fortune cookie. But politics have stepped all over 30 in April, and there you go…so.
Day 12 NaPoWriMo April 2013
last night / early morning
It’s all going so John C. Calhoun. A retrograde swoon. And always a moon of the moment to hang a history. A high tide of whichever side sees it simply as sink or swim, and still wet behind the ears, they reenact, to payback… Sherman’s march to the sea.
to think that argument fresh, fixed, and hitched to a wagon divine.
It’s no never-mind. It’s been done. Its disciples dust and they hold no proxy on the present.