Sunday, January 29, 2006
at the cemetery
there was much more. a disturbing encounter at the cemetery prompted a
veritable outpouring of guilt and atonement.
then
john came to pick up his kids, and i had to go out to my car
to get some papers i had gotten together for him. and when i
returned the browser along with my post was poof! gone.
so the theory is i better get over it. ain't a
fucking thing i can do to change it. my guilt will
ease over time in the absence of any opportunity to make
amends.
and now for the good news. i
wrote today, for the first time in who knows how long.
i may post here, or on yahoo, for comment. who knows. this
was actually before me the slimeball at cemeteries
caused great distress to a recently bereaved mother.
which is to say that it wasn't the encounter that
set off the muse - it was the muse that set me off
after too much time spent silent.
PEACE, FILIBUSTER, IMPEACH AND IMPRISON
Who am i, what am i
A picture's worth
moon phases |
I stand on the sand, and I'm rocking
grief to sleep in my arms.
issues
Poetry roll
Comments by: YACCS