My current trend in writing is to treat it like bits of code. Debugging as time goes on (fixing spelling/grammarish issues).

Most of these poems will rest the way they are written, but given time and interest many will see a patches or 2 before it is over.


Bleeding allot

From with in the mind's own eye
Without anyone standing in the way
That well has dried up
Form a spring too short
And a summer wasted,

Sure you can take a hair cut to an
Extreme, find the blades of each
Palm tree offensive
But i simple can't wait for the
Next hammock to be hung
On the backs of razors
On the lean edges
And long nights

She went into the bathroom stall
Closed the cold door
Rotated the mettle latch
Covered the porcelain with a clean
And squatted in anticipation
Of more things than
One could dream about

Sudden fires are know to spread
On hot nights
So, i have been told
It is common for
  Whole forests
  Street blocks
  Scenes in movies
To blow up without

No wonder the good guys die so young
A melody sung about cowboys
As if they had no choice
but to ride that horse
Into the wide open night
Instead of tend to the subaroo

An easy model
She is
Thrown back to the trail of the train
Just waiting for linguistics to
Play catch up and change
So the home and the range
Can open up and work hard at
Defending the country
Against the memories
The text books sweep under the rugs


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