Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Tuesday Poems

That's Me

The nuttinesses
hidden away in little things I write and dream
are nuggets of salvation

I'll never give them up.
All my strange theories which hung
together out of childish reveries.

I wont give them up. I love them.
I mean, nutty theories hold a special kind of
broken truth, truth with error, fact with question.


Then somebody came to the door
walked in when I opened it
and said, "is anybody here."

I was saying yes yes who are you
and you can't just walk in here.
The tv was on but the picture was blurry.

Then somebody passed by all I had on display
without seeing, preferring reference to a book
that told him who is real.

They have real reputations I know.
Then somebody looked around and seeing
an empty room left without speaking.


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