Tuesday, July 3, 2012

typewriter poem 2


i think i've been warned about snake oil before
and the man with no teeth won't drink it at all
before he looks up in the sky and sees a herring,
A HERON,
and the man with the boat comes and frees his passengers
from their stilted conversation

but as i gaze at its swoops and loops and glides and turns, 
it reminds me what i came to learn:

obsession doesn't earn respect
and it isn't respect either

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