Thursday, July 26, 2007


these are the gray days, the depths
soft dim light
over mattresses without sheets
the slow realization that the plate of plain spaghetti
has dropped to the floor
shattered, broken
the mass of pale noodles reaching out
like some poor medusas wig
lazily stretching downward
picking up a stray zuchinni
and slowly chewing

posted by Ian Aleksander Adams at 12:54 pm  

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