Wednesday, August 25, 2010


I'll just admit:
wind is harassing
my little red shack.
Trembling, it cries,
and sounds like
a big baby rattle
(an object made,
I do believe,
to mimic some
ancient sound) 

It’s not unlike
the insanity
of endless ideas
clattering my
eyes and ears,
fingers and tongue
to collaborate
and re-create
the simple echo of 
what I’ll just admit.

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