A Cargo of Green Hearts
~POEMS~
sometimes I wonder what
it would be like to have no calendars or clocks to feel the length of far like an elastic band between eyes and distance a sudden lengthening of the torso to presume near by the way it interrupts the pulse. to feel up embodied in stars and down upon eating a potato. the last bird to leave says winter and it sticks like a tongue to an icicle. the first bird to arrive says spring and you take off your clothes. listen dear heart to the way all these numbers are killing us, telling us how long we should live and how much it is worth. Comments are closed.
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Poetry LogPoems are posted here when I'm ready to share them. I often don't title my poems. The date you see above the poem may be the date it was posted here and not necessarily the date it was created. To see more, click on the Archives below. Archives
January 2020
CategoriesUnless otherwise noted, all content ©Paul-William Gagnon, Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-NoDerivs license.
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