PLEASE HELP BLUE PRESS STAY AFLOAT

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

All the burnt kelp methadone in the world can't keep the weather map from insinuating its telepathic rhyme scheme

 
It’s quiet on the water
my mind goes
gone

and the rain
mist inverted
on the sidewalk

arches of silver

must I always lead you there & back again
invariably whispers beneath the pier
the name of time