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SWB Jul 2012
I want to go with your foreign body
beyond these man-made lanes
and artificial light,
take you further than radio waves wander;
find a spot where we can make a blanket
of rays and seashells,
and when we're still,
sleep.
SWB Jul 2012
to be near her song
is like hot breakfast on a cold morning,
yet I get chills when she sings.
SWB Jul 2012
quick to tear me down
(and she says I'm impulsive)
she hoards the last word.
SWB Jul 2012
I shut the lock tight
with a sharp steely smirk on my face,
then melt the key.
SWB Jun 2012
I've never heard a downpour stomp so loud
as the moisture above us incites rampage
droppin' bombs from celestial once neutral clouds.

the gods stamp their feet while the godesses pout;
eternal beings acting young for their age.
I've never heard a downpour stomp so loud.

With tents full of water and glasses full of stout,
my overdue almanac cries out to the mage
droppin' bombs from celestial once neutral clouds.

the drizzle it dropped but the encore soaked the crowd
the mud grew new flowers as hands mopped the stage.
I've never heard a downpour cheer so loud.

Drenched to the bone and wanderin' about
our level of wetness cannot be guaged,
droppin bombs from celestial once neutral clouds.

No refuge for masses sprawled under the spout;
bad acid, good music, free love makes us stay.
I've never heard a downpour stomp so loud
droppin' bombs from the celestial once neutral clouds.
SWB Jun 2012
Subtracting his half from the word together,
burning pictures and nicknames so they don't leave a trace,
he's pining in piles of unopened letters.

With a head full of pulp and a heart of wet leather
he spent every tear he had in his face
subtracting his half from the word together.

He'd given his best 'cause he thought she'd had better-
she starved for attention; he hated the taste,
pining in piles of unopened letters.

She flew from the nest in search of warm weather;
he blew out the flame, too numb to touch base,
subtracting his half from the word together.

When the weather grew cold she put on his sweater-
pitched a tent by her mailbox just in case-
while he's pining in piles of unopened letters.

One held on to their end while one cut the tether.
She licked 32 envelopes:  each went to waste.
Subtracting his half from the word together,
he's pining in piles of unopened letters.
SWB Jun 2012
he didn't wear any shoes
'got no place with a roof to spend the night
he could but he never had to

never owned a guitar but he played mean blues
claimed the powders and herbs helped dim the light
he didn't wear any shoes

quick as a whip but slow to argue
drank like a sailor but the last to fight
he could but he never had to

poorest man I ever knew
a wealth of wisdom, no room for things trite
he didn't wear any shoes

his stories wilder than he, so they had to be true
the whole bar agreed he should write
he could but he never had to

he downed a tall whiskey then slouched in his stool
it took us some time to realize he'd died.
he didn't wear any shoes,
he could but he never had to
A villanelle
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