extensive poetic juxtapositions
by and about del ray cross
(delraycross at gmail)
Monday, May 07, 2007
cdxlviii
Pour the last of the cold coffee down the sink. Finding youth or something. Can’t write since Canada. Fighting liberty. I thought he was a mirror, then his eyes glazed over. I slapped him a few times to see if I could feel it. But that’s marriage (and a possible move to England).