the radio mind is loud tonight, and soulful
guiding my steps through twilit streets
drunk on datura and roses, i nearly trip over
a raccoon, who doesn’t appear to mind

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 28th, 2005 at 5:46 am and is filed under poem. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.