hey - it's my 100th post (according to the blogger count). Wowzers, and well, i have about half that many more in draft to add later on. need to get some more worked on, but who knows when that mood will strike again.
anyway, this is another introspective poem ... (ain't most of them that way?) written in the fogs of - Oct 92.
FOG IN DRAINAGE DITCHES
fog in drainage ditches
sentinel hawk upon wireless fence post
i watch the moon
caress a frozen wind
& wait on silent corners
for arch-angels in cadillacs that never stop
fog covers the yellow brick road
& vagrants lose the key to the american dream
i reaching for the debrie of comets
rub the face of gods lacking only names
expecting deliverance
as if i were daniel
the poetry and rambling thoughts of a working class poet
