Thursday, October 31, 2013

What does cheese tell me about poetry?

I adore cheese.
Not one to my unliking.
Is there any letter that I don't adore.
Thus, cheese is a proper tool for a meal.
Thus, letters are the proper tool for poetry.
Thus, indeed.

1 comment:

  1. H/continued

    One molecular pattern
    is that what this is?
    One false start
    and the whole thing falls apart

    She heard the remorseful sound of the odd man out
    She visualized two rooms with synchronized candles
    She passed the work of a neighbor who stained glass
    She missed more than once the turning of the wall

    And there, in the distance, a chair in the street
    A woman sitting beside it, singing for tea,
    dressed in white, calling the name of her lover,
    aching for someone who was aching for her

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