Tuesday, January 29, 2013

o47


i recall Hoboland and yearn
for those notes
the river that swept my thoughts
a torrent of glib
nit-knocking-narfs
but now the gravel dries
and I can pick through the pebbles.
One will spark that fire again
a sculpted flint
smooth grained glass
boney shard of possum tooth
all tell some tale
of hope or despair.
Speak:

4 comments:

  1. Yep, I think I know where-of you speak. RoM is coming. (cue Jaws theme music)

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  2. oh, i really like this piece, the fluidity of it, but what i love is the final command. really, really love this, tom)))

    xo
    erin

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  3. the liquid/fire dichotomy in this piece is matched by a seeming latent/creative aspect that is very beautiful, tom. fire is generative in this powerful and provocative message, one in which you give it a voice.

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