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When we meet
We always meet in Steve’s head.
I invite him over he says great
But has always forgotten something
Or remembered something
And so we are comfortable again
Inside his head.
Dan Pharo, King of Eygpt,
lives where motley is born.
The tackle of ornaments,
Mod yeatspeare gone.
And my line?
Fill a bucket with a hole.
Catches me on the corny.
On the weary.
Crowd dearer,
if I’m the solution,
what could the problem be.
We bleed our enemies
to give them their senses,
Dan Pharo said.
I don’t care/don’t care (9)
flower of you with arrow offshot (8)
I make train the way I go (7)
those two talked, quiet on the blossom,
wise or not, of a blind spot (7)
I, error, I (6)
to gnoss is to know (6)
If you lack time, don’t (6)
I see here a trend
for the greatness you lack (6)
be that grass lies
how untrue
the importance of elsewhere
as attention removed
swan: diagonal on the water
hardly an epiphany
Poem, write!
Hands, move!
Hard to say else where
Didn’t move
Couldn’t lie in one line
Over?–no, I thought..oh well,
Swan Ted.
