A week or so ago I told Jesse that I had written a poem about socks. It took me a while to dredge this one up, but here it is. It’s an early effort at a “funny” poem. I don’t think I really succeeded. Oh well. –sam A Mother’s Advice Love is a dirty pair…
A little something I threw together at lunch…
Clean Warm water surges; Ripples nearly running over the worn tub’s lip. Water licks soles and toes And slowly slides off Raisin skin into a puddle. How long has it been… Since I walked the tightrope? Since I contemplated death? Since the world forgot me? Since I forgave myself? Since I was born? Medicine-mirror-man scans…
Earliest Memories
I was born July 15 (a summer or two after the hippie’s celebrated their “summer of love” and a year after Neil met the man on the moon) to Ana Luisa H. and Manuel Balbino S. on the north end of an island known worldwide as Manhattan. My parents soon split. My earliest memories don’t…
Testing 1.2.3
This will probably the first and last post in this journal…