Wednesday, May 14, 2008

at times, I'm
just fifty cents
and newsprint

I want to be in tomorrows paper
but it's doesn't handle the rain well
and the ink starts to seep
and the words start to drip off the page
and you and your history,
that moment they remember,
have no features

i can melt
or catch fire,
smolder or singe
or disolve


ain't it better to burn
than be yesterdays news?

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

This poem, this whole site is gorgeous. Wonderfull selections of writings to dip into every week. Thought I'd say so out loud.

marionerin said...

i was really excited to see yer post... it's been so long since you put anything up!
i dig this one

Anonymous said...

Holy fuck, Mac, this one's great! And, yes, it is better.....