the beautiful danger of pens drying

9 Apr

trespassing into a parked mind maybe violates boundaries,
but it sometimes turns cemetery thoughts sizzling
a rap tap dance on yesterday goes the grave far away,
you sweet crazy love of so many faces.

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2 Responses to “the beautiful danger of pens drying”

  1. eusebiusclay May 3, 2014 at 6:08 am #

    This one was over my head. I rarely use a pen anymore. I type. It is probably a personal poem directed at someone whom I do not know. I wish I knew him or her so I could understand what you were saying!

    • steve May 3, 2014 at 10:06 am #

      i’m rereading this one and it’s taking me a few minutes and then i re-realized what was going on that day. well for one thing, my pen dried up. I keep a pen and mini notebook in my back pocket to write down grocery lists and potential baseball trivia questions and other ideas. I was walking near the cemetery and in kind of a sour puss mood, thinking, why do I feel the need to write everything down? why won’t my mind just quiet down? Yeh, my mind and entire life felt like a cemetery with lots of epitaphs and so i was wishing for some human friction and boundary breaking and dancing in the cemetery among all those dead people which i was trying to avoid becoming.

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