Thursday, June 6, 2013

Productivity is next to Godliness.

"You should write a blog." -A women I met at my new job. 



Soft pretzel on the curb, up to no good.  



"Turning into Memory"


I can't conceive of the future.
I can hardly conceive of the present.

What I can conceive of
Is fresh cut grass
And your falsetto
Lilting a tune
I didn't know
Before I knew you.

I can conceive 
Of the flow of wind on my face
At the shore.
And the outline of your body
Sauteing onions in nothing but an apron.
And the outline of your body
Beneath my sheets.

I can conceive 
Of the breath of the sun
Baking exposed shoulders
And how much cooler it feels in the shade
And how you sounded
When you said you loved me.

I can't conceive
Of who would attend my funeral
But I would want you to be there.
But I'd rather go to a wedding with you.
But I'd rather go on a picnic with you.

--


Why are there no overweight pigeons? Or are all pigeons overweight pigeons?

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