still trying to exhaust a place

What ruins are visible
on my face today

where it once
was forgotten

(the inventor of the bike)
the dish, Riki

I want to see your darkness, dear
golden greensky bluegrass

around you, ugly mug,
great day. Gourmet

adventures, leads me to
hope                I am

closed off,
ugly. Great

day’s gourmet tree town sound
around you        There’s something

beautiful in my mouth
like a tomorrow

that allows us
to bounce off

of each other
to some unearthed gems

like there is a tomorrow
You have a good sense

of style. Can you tell me a little more
about that Pussy

Riot, fragrant world, drowning
in grain, local food.

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Filed under Disaster, Eastern Michigan University, Experiment, Michigan, Michigan Writer, Poems, Poetry, Prose, Reading, Revisitations, The Temporal Arts Collective, Winter, Writing

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