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The jewels were set off long ago as fireworksThe shoe or the sheer wonder of a shiverProvided whatever light it couldWhile I provided harness for a knot-bunOf bone, sinew, and statistical analysistTorso of a man, head of a ramAnd all the glory that flows from a doner's clone:Rag and bone shop, call it whatever.Having never truly loved it and never truly followedI cannot say I have lost it, except in myselfI have failed to act on my desire and lost where I had actedOn the practice fields of imaginary private schools.11/3/2016, 8:27 PM0Add a comment
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I find it difficult to like or dislike appointments in INT.They treat me so strangely there. They treat my body like a bag of meatAs they nudge it into the shapes it needs to be with a variety of well-usedGear, some working some not, and a tucked shoulder, a forearm,A thigh and the curl of one ankle to resemble the perfect awkward, whereThey leave me for fifteen minutes. After that time, I hear in the headphones,"Are you ready, Mr. Fox,"as if I had been holding up the rodeo all this time
Among gear built by heroes before who knew we would be heroes by now.10/31/2016, 1:32 PM0Add a comment
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And here's one from Lori!
And if you ever thought there was a good reason Sutro Tower needs an official poem, you could start a petition! I know a candidate!0Add a comment
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Football is the most American sport.
All it lacks is guns.
10/30/2016, 9:07 PM0Add a comment
Strangely beautiful. Everything old is new again.
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