Sunday, November 26, 2006


at 90% water I am at low tide
sitting with my glass of amber
barley and hops drying my nucleus
hoping for a tickle of my brittle brain
you sip purity with a straw
with hopes that at 98%
you’ll hydrate into your own
private ocean
or evaporate from yourself
from me
when we hug my mouth is dry
and your eyes seem more aqua than hazel
I drive with thoughts of adult swim,
wet lakes where I can see the bottom
and you, poolside


Anonymous Anonymous said...

I like this. It makes me thirsty for something. Seems lonely like a desert island in the middle of an ocean...and yet there is hope.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007 10:32:00 PM  
Blogger Plus Ultra said...

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Friday, February 23, 2007 5:00:00 PM  

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