Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Skins


skins


dry pine needles
bark stripped

he drinks slow
drops clever

quips about
cricket dancing

a philosophy of
depressed sexuality

a man turns around in
the parking lot forgot his keys

& night never ends
it just waits like

a locust in
his skin;

the distance of what you cannot turn


Richard Lance Williams

Posted over on More Poetry

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