POEM OF THE DAY
September 13
I’ve been living for two years
in this small, cluttered studio
full of books, beer bottles
and rock and roll records
living the odd life
that has always suited me,
sitting quietly for hours
staring out at the interstate,
dreaming it’s a river
and writing small poems
like this.
I’ve been living for two years
in this small, cluttered studio
full of books, beer bottles
and rock and roll records
living the odd life
that has always suited me,
sitting quietly for hours
staring out at the interstate,
dreaming it’s a river
and writing small poems
like this.