This is writing that doesn't fit into any particular category. It's not prose and it's not quite poetry. It's not quite sane but it's something healthy. Not all of us have it figured out. I sure as hell don't. It's a series of locutions on madness and locura.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

States: Carolina

It worries me
I see every little ache and pain
As burdened proof of epic failure

Unite
Encouraging
I feel every delighted slight
As unencumbered news of surefire success

Bleeding
I missed my stop this time
And now the ferry's sailed
Across the marsh; not returning

So I've built a fire
And next to the dark I lie
Trembling
This is the state I'm in
This is the state I'll be
Carolina burning

Sink in the marsh off Gold Bug avenue


(7/13/10 - 3:51 PM)
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