if they say a one-word poem,
i'll write your name...

it takes four to move and wander.
it takes three to be the reason to stay awake.
it takes two to grow the love and to survive.
but it only takes one to make it all happen.
you

The truth
        Is
Love doesn’t
  Recognize
All the artificial
Man made restriction
    We try to place
           On it

       It simply
flows between
    Souls and overwhelm
The hardest hearts

     Love is power
            Love
          Is peace
Kindly choose love

Every living body has a digestive system
That ends with an *******.
The body politic is no exception.

We stood in a circle in the parlor,
Jim was chatting with his golfing crones;
Her body was there for the viewing,
But we're keen on his hole-in-one.

We gave him our proud approval,
We chorused, Jim, well-done!
Then Jim took his turn on the kneeler,
To ponder before her coffin.

We all know the cold humility,
That an ace needs a load full of luck;
Yet we're pleased to hear all his details,
From the crack off the tee,
To the flag in the cup.

I waited for my turn behind Jim,
I overheard his solemn words:
... an eight iron... bounced once, then straight in...
Oh, and may you rest in peace too, Mrs. Hobin.

<Insert Poem Here>

<Insert Silent Sympathies Here>

<Insert Spiraling Tenancies Here>
   (Wait...No. Not that.)
<Delete Line>

<Insert Self Doubt Here>

<Insert Friends Here>
   [File Not Found]
::Comment:: What about me?

<Insert Apology Here>

<Insert Regret Here>

<Insert Pain Here>

<Insert Poem Here>


<RvL>