A microscopic home.

this is a literary blog. i'm literate so i must have something to say. hopefully.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

sixty watts

crash down from the ceiling I can

to the tune of light bulbs breakings

and breakers that malfunction in twitches

to be electric,

with circuits like veins
stinging my body

oh, would I be a dream

of soundless, stirring fires.


on a damp deck
down on Hollywood
my grandfather
sat with growing belly
dangling over sweaty
though pleated.

stretched his frame out like
a lawn chair

swallowed down a glass
of lemonade
and taught me
follow the ace.


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