Monday, January 21, 2013


reading jim harrison again and wanting a big tumbler of warm whisky

i don't drink whisky warm or otherwise but there are some writers

who make you want to eat and drink even if i sit on my ass

and polish the floor count my breaths and take my measure

thinking of a dead poet friend who told me that the difference

between poets and other people was that poets thought

about death all the time which i agree because there is

symmetry in the thought but let me say language is life

and breathing words that to enter poetry one must be

goddamn glad to be alive


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