to you my lost star
quietly waining in the
winter moon
light hurts my eyes after
a night of hard drinking
blending together the
sorrows of years past
Angst and sodomy combines
for a sweet taste
hearing and wanting; listen
to their needs
as the automobiles rust
and decay is commonplace
so the waste of your society
waits on the children's shore
needles and spoons litter
the earth but no one
leaves space for the
stockings to hang
nevermore does the quiet
ring so true
as when I wait outside
your window longing to
feel -- the dew.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
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