Author Information
speaking balloons
i don't want the snowy
world to melt and turn
the color of dog poop
is this a day you can
read a poem
is this a day when
the image of me
pandering for your kiss
is like a 5-year-old's request
for balloons on the 100th day
or a brownish melt down
where the phone and
visitors take the place
of opening envelopes
filled with heat
i'm loving it
i'm digging it
i am the loveboy
between the cracks
i am soup created
with tenderness for you
