Wednesday, October 22, 2008


locked in tiny verse,
my words are like kids
or worse:

better seen
than heard.

(talk about old-

in this age of slams and self-
confessing, this way seems so --

there's no shorter way
to say --


but this life has switched me
into the younger
brother: tough.
keep your hands off
my stuff.

my words
are like the paralyzed
army men i placed
all around the room,
prepared for doom.

here's how it is
also the same:
the battle never came.

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