6.09.2010

park sounds; first rhymes!

the hum of cars vibrates under my feet,
in beat to the slap scuff rhythm of
runners' half second connection to the street.
ignoring the automatic need to define,
we suspended above
rushing water on an impossible incline.
collective - we two;
an all encompassing hope
that please, just maybe,
this is the beginning of a new rope.



(baby mice)

2 comments:

  1. the air is fresh in my nose
    it begins to drip a like a hose.
    i brush it, and look over at you.
    the slope slopes the wrong way
    its not impossible though.
    new rope
    like, totez dope.

    ReplyDelete
  2. YUR GRATE
    plate
    inflate
    expatriate

    feel this
    squeal, miss!

    ReplyDelete