hi dave,
your poem is full of decadence
with that kind waving of the actor leaving the scene, here is a dried red
chrisantemum for it,
take care, anny
> Anyhow this is just another of my throwaway poems, it's probably terrible
> and completely fails to say what I want but I thought I'd give the dead
art
> another try for a laff.
>
>
> Best
>
> Dave
>
>
>
> I am brilliant, but pathetic.
> Casual acquaintances tell me
> the most intimate details
> of their lives, yet I walk
>
> home alone with my bundle
> of silence humped on my back.
>
> I am the one you love
> but forget, the still loud voice
> to be ignored, unbeknown
> to the known, the laughter
>
> clinking like wine glasses
> that fades at the end of the joke.
>
>
>
> David Bircumshaw
>
> Leicester, England
>
> Home Page
>
> A Chide's Alphabet
>
> Painting Without Numbers
>
> http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/index.htm
>
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