An equation even he couldn't crack

February 13, 2009
More by this author
let me hide between your prophetic numbers
solve me, and i'm
all yours


1, 2, 3, we're running out of time

me, dark'room
swimming in chemicals
a yellowing scrap of what we
could have been

no q.e.d. something won't factor out
or factor in

i'm not making this any easier

3, 2, 1

so i fly through pages of prose but nothing fits
shoes made of plaster
crumble and

i would have given you everything

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback