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Brock

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(no subject) [Nov. 29th, 2004|08:30 pm]
Brock
bic pen,
rests peacefully
on a wooden desk.

lights out,
window open I pass
my smokey breath.

Glowing glass
machine hum, I sit on
a leather chair.

car exhaust
black beneath the fender
splashing water.


not really a haiku.
ships with tire sails
and buccaneers in suits and ties
thieving time on sea lanes
of black rock and glass.
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(no subject) [Nov. 19th, 2004|10:57 am]
Brock
trees leaves
falling, gust of wind
water rolls, rest.

95.8,
numbered sticker stuck
edges peeling off.

a nightly walk
dark, cool, alone,
makes sense.

ants crawl,
sun above, I stare,
god or ant?

lines touching
lines, hallways touching
hallways, lives.

lie still,
tired, eyes in rest,
warm ground.

a rock, I lie
in black, light outside
they wonder.

shiny hollow
bronze, a metaphor
of a man thinks.

white bars
holding back the sun behind
the glass.
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(no subject) [Nov. 18th, 2004|11:55 am]
Brock
honeycombed plastic
before lights, box moves
up, earth down.

keys clicking
fingers tapping, busy-
ness, work.

lit fingers
red, breath in
more red.

head low,
chair cold, I sit
I'm flying.

pretty eyes
pretty face, beauty
in person.

a quiet dream
a void within, you stand
we kiss.

sadness
staring into a
happy face.
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