

N.V.N.V. is not a sin.N.V.
It's thirty years of man condensed into an obituary two initials long.


Lost HopeIt hunts me on salty days and stings the wild flesh of memory, insisting upon my negligence, my lack of love for wild coconuts and sleeping iguanas crept up upon by the cautious feet of nostalgia.Lost Hope
The days of shell seeking
between rocks are
over - grown
now by villas and resorts, creeping down the hillside like love-vine, choking the ocean of its play. We went there, you and I, on sandaled Sundays full of wind, and discovered South America on our wavy coast, the trash of a far away continent a treasure to sand dusted conqueror


Hold Me UpI saw a man walking down a road in Winston-Salem, North Carolina with block-letter packages, an M on one side, the wind pushing him back and forward as he struggled up to the Post Office. I held in my lap my diabetes diet, which my doctor told me was a good way to lose weight, and I saw this man walking towards me, dressed in mismatched scrubs and a walking-jacket, packages clutched to his chest, mouth open, sixty-eight years of misery running down his cheeks, howling back into the uncaring wind, one stumbling foot in front of the next, wife gone, children farHold Me Up
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I
~sweetclub
i still have to find my words about your poems with the certainty in mind that they tell me lively stories.
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"I'm like a pelican at riptide:
I'm a corpse, I'm not a fisherman."
*TheWritersMeow
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