Monday, January 31, 2011

KISS

In the deliriums of passion he promised everything, but when it was over, everything was left for later.
-Gabriel Garcia Marquez

The tree in the bathroom grows in every direction.
The forest untamed above the toilet.
The rows of trees between my house and theirs,
that make one only think of ancestors,
do not grow any more, but expand somehow.
In some other woods wanders a Cajun
who has had to leave the corporate world
and rat race for health reasons
and has moved into a small,
Class B (van) RV
and simplified his life.
The thing we think of doing
but do not.

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