hi. not sure who you are, or why you are here.
this blog is for nobody in particular.
let's not call it a blog.
I find that
is the most
i feel tired. i have been left behind once again. still i wonder where contention lies; in the destruction, the creation, the suffering, or (&)
the tidal & cyclical re-entering of those who puncture what little muscle i have left. is it
worth nursing the sores left by the protagonists of my day dreams. is it worth letting
those same sores etch their presence across my skin.
i don't know.
i like poetry. music. resting. pajamas. hockey. picnics. art. psychology. thought. beauty. loss. longing. masochism. searching for the trinity. the idea of "love." you. & a great deal else.
by the way.
what in god's name is a list poem.
there's no such thing.
not that i could write one if there was.
i'm fairly helpless.
if you couldn't tell,
i'm truly elated
to be back.
to be writing
thanks for having me.