Dark Poetry Prose Poetry July 30, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

7-30-03 10:42 pm brick NJ wednesday

things change. always. it's always different. every time.

fallen like trees across the road. no way to pass.

i listen. i linger on. autumn leaves about to drop. that's what we are.

i talk. write. say more than i should.

type. like fingers have their own mind. running free of me. their direction more prominent than any i've ever had.

she sometimes wants to die. so do i. more than sometimes.