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another poem

October 30th 2009 00:05
scratch the leaves because when you come home,

the fish will be waiting for you,

draped over seven pans and burping up memories,

where the waters end and the mind begins that’s is where we can once again meet

the pools between the worlds told the truth this time,

and i set fire to the forest so you cannot escape.



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a poem

October 30th 2009 00:03
all pens are overflowing,

i thought the ink would dribble down the sides of the table,

slowly and deliberately,

creeping across the floor

seeping into the floorboards

years later you would come back,

and find that everything had turned black.

but you came home today,

the octopus was a gelatinous heap

and you smiled a bit,

“you were always messy”
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