… I thought that was a marvelous fate, that the worm, a thief in the dark, should eat a man’s words, his brilliant language and its sturdy foundation. Not a whit the wiser was he for having fattened himself…..

(a pleasing anonymous quote I can’t resist)

You know a blog is officially gone to hell in a handbasket when you start in with the poetry. Today is that day.

Run! Run like the wind.


My Life

Or so it goes,

an unending trail of bottles and belts

placed end to end would girdle the earth.

There have been gettings up and goings down

betting at racetracks and fights outside of grotty bars.

The men have been bounteous and bitchy

loving and hateful,

and they all leave in the end.

Like Bukowski, there were poems, art,

and days fit to cut an ear off.

This entry was posted in poetry, Post weakly. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Poetry

  1. judyt54 says:

    Last two lines does the summing up, and beautifully. I trust you still have both ears attached…


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