Sunday, April 8, 2012

I Would Not Read My Poems


They don't rhyme


(even if they could)


few are funny


(maybe not even those)


there's too much of that nature stuff


(don't you know that more folks live in cities?)


(who says 'folks' these days anyway?)


but


it's too late now


to


un


write


t


h


e


m


.



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July

heat lightning flies, with fireflies vies - flashing bright in the thick, dark air.