okay...so if you are here on my page....please do me a really big favor and let me know what you think of my poetry. take a little time and tell me your honest opinion-what do you not like, what do you like, why? i would appreciate it more than you know.
connecticut is burning:
she first opened the book in the dawn of summer.
the sweaty sudanese man sold it to her.
that summer the theater opened on prime street.
that summer she lost her blue high-heel, watched
it tumble down the sidewalk drain along with the tears
of a modern-day cupid.
that summer she worked at the grocer's, scanning
the crowds for someone under the geriatric age spectrum.
(to no avail)
that summer she picked up spanish from her amigo
at the library desk.
that summer the hobo under the bridge left,
pursued by blue lights.
that summer the water was contaminated with vengeance.
she dog-eared the pages and inhaled the stench
of sweat left by his greasy sudanese palms.
