June 20, 2010

re: txt poem

Former champion of the world
Full of vinegar Covered in scars
Heap of bones Sack of meat Antique
model Old rust bucket Beauty stagnant

Up too close and whither
context Too far gone for details Every stroke
another moment implodes Impossibly
paint a consciousness’ dream

For purposes of preservation
self- or other-wise could we please
know or reasonably pinpoint by observation
when better is good enough

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::say something::

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