"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Dealing with it

Done. Eyes like
ghosts of
a shattered bottle,
drunk and discarded,

taped loosely
to reality, no stronger
than a dead leaf
gripping a windshield.

The sun is back
by the time he leaves,
anchor chain cut,
adrift on pavement,

his constitution
bound together
with fading,
fraying bandages,

his past like
an old war wound,
a howling twinge
in every rainstorm.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Paul Simon, Hurricane Eye

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