Microsoft Notepad Microsoft Frontpage Paint Shop Pro
:: driven on 2008-03-05 at 11:39 ::
My little spittles of poems
fling out like seizuring arms
of an epileptic. Dabs, stutters,
dribbles and barks of words.
They loop out in solar flares
from my sleep, and collapse back
into cacophonous static.
x
To the one that got away:
Be careful selecting me—
I am more than the price of seeds.
If you seek the delicate,
the shy fragrance, then choose
the tea rose with their petite,
eager faces, or the blue
curves of the full-throated lily.
But if your garden is fractured
with dried, failed bodies—short
beauties in which you poured
devotion — then choose me.
Show me.
I was born in deserts, I will thrive
on my own. Select me only
if you want me as the only part
of your land; I will take the sun
and spread.