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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