Reflections, of sorts, in verse, of sorts.

Month: March, 2013

New York Minute

Fuck you too
Mr Salinger I know you
don’t want to be here either
but I couldn’t think of anyone
besides you or John and
he couldn’t come so we’ll
just sit silently two phonies
floating on the same city stair

You know if only Franny
Glass were here instead
I’d kiss her lapel

20130325-081040.jpgphoto Jo ©2013



Simple cloth! Malicious
precious shade!
Bane. You stand
as a brick wall
between me and
her blushing glow.

20130314-211602.jpg photo Jo ©2013

Gray Birds

In the land of vigorous death
I too have forgotten
that we sleep.

20130313-092500.jpgphoto Jo ©2013

Water Color

Emptiness fills this place
It dulls colors and throws us
from the sea

Wash me
if only to run your hands
across my rusted skin

photo Jo ©2013