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.

10.07.2005

Trading places

he stretched his black leather gloves
against the iron gate
a night spent pacing
all the while watching
trolling the pond
he is the
just in case it ever happens guy
a break on insurance premiums
and taxes
the lost leader
required
unused

the burnt side of the eggs,
comes out sunny side under
when the retails chains
call it in
the night is a tunnel stretched out,
alone and tightening
having already counted
  steps between parking spots
  blue mazdas
  white horses
  scraps of paper
  receipts
round and round he goes
finding all the bits of trivia
tucked into any place
he imbues each car panel
with the story of a life time
fills each window scene of
  wrangler jeans
  wrist watches
  coat hangers
  the bomb
with spaces for
  long walks,
  dog feeding time
  kids first step
  fire crackers
almost every ankle bracelet
smells of sun oil,
late naps
all behind the glass
waiting for someone else

as if when the birds
emerge from the evening
and break the morning with a flight
the shopping carts come alive
  pushing
  rushing
in and out
its like
  every piece
  every shop
  every car
  every unicorn
he guarded
never existed to anyone but him

he pours nothing else but
coffee steam into the air
  above his cup
  under his nose
I watch
him
and think
of his life
as if i have been there before

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