Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Yeah,
go ahead stare at my crows feet,
I don't mind
I'm proud of them 
earned every one...
broken my back 
broken this 
broken that
ninety proof patch 
thatched hut for a heart 
and broken clock soul 

Yeah, crows feet, look closely,
there etched in unforgiving-unforgivable 
tin miscarriages
cornucopias spilling the seeds of lust
sticky-petty jealousies on a path of forever
the broken flesh of those never born
gouging at the skin around the soul.
You on the other hand
don't have any crows feet
your pallet and brushes are clean.
haven't earned any
haven't buried what you love... 
enough
given (it )all to a heart 
only to retrieve (it) from the earth 
to be put out of it's misery.
you haven't gotten those pixie dusted eyes broken,
but you'll catch up... some day,
its coming
way-way down the tracks...at the empty station,
where nothing breathes but crow prints 
in a fragile evening mud-

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