April 20, 2004
I enjoy scattering drafts
of my writing around.
littering unvisited parts
folding drafts of poetry into paper birds and
throwing them off cliffs! caught on
cliffside branches or
slicing into jungle canopy
tearing prose into many pieces
and then smaller ones
holding all these words in my hands
cupping these unvisited words.
out the train window and
when as in surprise my fingers open
they are absolved of me
thrashing like moths
they fly deep into night
NB: I'll stop posting old poems after I graduate; most of this stuff is taken from
the chapbook I just completed yesterday; copies available sometime soon.
Posted by delire at April 20, 2004 12:11 PM