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Showing posts from June, 2015

Leaning House, Canyon Rim

for children everywhere, broken, homeless & disabled My eyes are brown and green as the mountain's pi ñ on. I wear thinning, purple long underwear in the morning and warm socks sometimes late into the day. You probably don’t know my name,  but it was stitched simply.  Perfect quilt of father and mother.                            Occasionally  I fold up inside myself. Doesn't everyone? What I love best is laughter, cold water running through my hands. I should have been a whole boy with no  mystery inside of me,  but others don’t see me that way, look straight through me, except my mother who will always love me as I am.  Firecracker in the closet hidden  behind someone else’s shoes.  Too many times I could have been  disowned.  But I know  the newborn ghosts that haunt the corner  hotel downtown now,  once the hospital of the nuns.  Many of the pi ñ on  are dead on the mountains. Bugs. Safe quilt slowly shredding at the seams.