Jan 10, 2003 13:02
we're still looking
under rocks sifting sand
pulling roots not
sustenance evidence
this tree will fall
all the way through
and we will dig underneath
all the way through
lifted the house
by a crane
and there were only worms
covered in remains
but we ate them anyway
can be that hungry
need that much
something worth consuming
hands in the air
something worth consuming.
Bye.
ps: Mister Sterling tonight at 8. TV, me, projectiles at hand. It's a date.
poem