“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label receipt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label receipt. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
Minute Beans
Your time is money.
This account-Your Life, Net Worth
spent counting minutes
Until it never
earned any interest-ing
ways to get rich quick.
Capitalism
liquid mold, carbon copies
mint makers go broke
count on your changes
to add value. Return Re-
ceipt not required.
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Gravitas
For every poem I put here, there are four more never shared, around six never written and twenty-seven partially thought out. For every word...

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1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
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Someone said, the full moon looks larger in the city because of skyscrapers- which said nothing about people feeling smaller, more co...
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Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...