Sunday, May 22, 2011

I Wait Endlessly Outside Her Gate

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my inner angst
held to the poetry
of her life
by my fucked
cosmic fate
what she
cooked
in the cauldron
of chaos
other ate
in her
holistic
unappealing
cooking
i had no faith
nurtured hopes
could not
cultivate taste
my pathos
on the agony
of my poem
i cut and paste
words
words
words
meaningless
total waste
seismic silence
oxymoron haste

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