I'd like to gather my poems
and scatter them...

I loved him
(still do...

Life is a mystery
dreams, an empty well...

I've been skipping the sidewalks
of my latter poems...

If you were a star,
I'd wish you to fall through me...

It was a gradual unfolding,
the listless dimming of love...

You rock my ship
into a hypnotic lullaby...

I am sickened
by my own poetry...

There's a fat man sitting alone
at the corner cafe...

I feel like a star
cast amongst this ambiguousness...

There's a peculiar heart
beating faintly...

Outside October perches its little feet
upon summer's fading scenery...