Friday, November 18, 2005

Fuzzy Poem

Not a sound nor touch
but feel and hear
and list and lost
on contours
sanded to an unending
upwards round and down
continual; hear, feel
and take the shadow
down to wash your face:

buzz haze graze whizz
onomatopoeia
cause lies gaze sighs
a shoulder left to take her
a handful left to shake her
a music fuzzed to wander
over ears.




  Posted by deemikay :: # 11/18/2005 04:24:00 AM :: ---------------------------------------