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.

1.29.2006

thumbing around
3 of 3

about a tiger
it started from the tail's tip
we stumbled out of the city
 a bus ride
at morning's own busting
we went up and out
into the
the jungle
  of umbrellas overgrown
  of branches splitting
  and whiskers washing

my own body was tangled up
with virus veins
so every time
the stripe switched
 the trail
i would swoon
searching out
  sitting stump
  perching rock
her steep flanks
flowed up
around
to where all the water drops
are full of
  latte froth
  full in gravity’s gratitude
we heaved through endlessly
one shoe after
one army boot
up and up

somewhere deep into the
ascent aimed at the tiger's mouth
we heard the yellow crawl
of the unthinkable taxi
a bulldozer
and it was then
the thumb stood up
for the third time
and flagged the contraption
down

the machine approached close
enough
and halted
my hands griped
it's cool
flesh
we stepped onto
it's side
and rode
up
away
into the tiger’s face
that
effortlessly came into focus

slept that night
in the nape of the tiger's neck
near the end of the trails
tip toed top

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