Saturday, September 28, 2013

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

I like to think that Superman
Remembers home
Like sails on a windless day

Sunday, September 08, 2013

I settle on me
A skin of dust and treachery
Forgotten plans 
In the distance between 
Thought and action
Separation of head and hands
I believe in

How do I lose myself?

I am not easily misplaced Or forgotten, Arriving as I do Before even the curtains draw And that first morning jug boils, Bleary, yes Grudgin...