my little point of viewA Poem by h d e rushin
I am vital, cinematic, epigrammatic, literary but moribund. The sequela aftereffect of hurt perhaps or the coming and going of disease. Let me warn you in advance about getting old. You think half the thoughts you use to think, half of the time, which would be ok but you cant defend yourself from it.Cant throw your hands up fast enough or swat the fly away that laid, good, purposeful eggs on your face.
One day I will love you from the grave and who could ever think that that could happen? Burned like Frankenstein, filled with sweet odors like Whitman, toothless and gray as an October morning, but no less love. Dylan looked at everything for at least an hour,
close,
and then made cardboard signs that he flipped, gold earring style, in the sun. Signs that, looking back, Ginsberg thought was genius. © 2013 h d e rushinReviews
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3 Reviews Added on August 13, 2013 Last Updated on August 13, 2013 Author
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