before my lesson,
my head is pounding its dulled drums,
deafening my ears,
piercing that spot behind my eyeballs.
All I can do to soothe the sound
of my brain beating itself against my skull,
is read some poetry--good poems--
and write my pain
in ink that is running from my pen
- ► 2006 (17)
- On Death
- in a bar (revised)
- modern love
- Stop staring! What are you looking at? Am I really...
- The Hello's
- He is Shanghai, with the space-like buildings, ...
- in a bar
- to teach
- my pen
- In the dimly lit still of the morning
- cold, bitterest of colds
- Kindergarten cont'd
- ▼ June (18)