After four long years and treacherous swampland adventure of humidity and Spanish moss. But wait. Spanish moss doesn't really grown much in this area. So if I see some maybe Ill snap a couple of shots for the blog.
here is a short poem about drinking beer in the dark.:
I'm going to Henry's Place to cry
While I sip diet Coke in the dark
Alone in a crowd of shadows
between me and the internet
jukebox.
Im working on this one that began like two images of word salad. So I think I am headed in the right direction.
I might say that I am studying mindfulness. This may be the hidden key to understanding the place my poems are molded
the Blues is also a ubiquitous force as the Mississippi River tumbles southward past Memphis. So this I imagine because I don't travel. I live vicariously more often than I even realize.
And the tao quotes and the Zen quotes for David
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