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Monday, April 29, 2013

You came...For Deya (April 28th poem)

You came into my life
On a soft wind
In the height of summer

My breath caught
In yours

You evaporated one day
Rain on the sidewalk

But I will never forget

Walking the streets of New York
Hand in hand all night
Trying not to get wet

Survival, Part I (April 27th poem)

Before it happens
Nobody tells you
That this is what
Survival looks like

This is the ugly
Underbelly of triumph

That the champion's life
Has a seedy side:
Sloppy with sweat
Stinking with fear
Ugly not elegant

That its
Usually greasy not graceful
More than you asked for
Than you wanted
Less than you can handle
But not pretty either