Monday, April 11, 2011

chilled butter

this might be one of the meanest things i have ever done, and god help me if the author ever finds this, but in honor of national poetry month, i am going to be posting someone's terrible poems. because he publishes them. on facebook. for the world to see:

Where is my muse?

Once dwelling at my door

Now lost with a frail hand

Conversations drawn like

Chilled butter

One word tripping over

The insignificance of the next

She looked into her new lovers eyes

And saw a puzzle with a few pieces


Not leading to a quest…

But to a theory

That a picture that is missing a few pieces

Is better than the undeveloped...

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