They sit, we sit, not knowing the depths
of care or of writing, mesmerized by cool muzak - darkening the space between crossed legs, dangling Converse, the converse of discussion - where we are not involved in the diabolical. But magazines enter the diatribe sometimes - and sometimes where we all are notifying each other, all microbes of discovery, well the best we can make of the setting sun - an attempt at screening, shading, sun glasses. Ignore pleas at coolness, at what we all can agree to, upcoming stars falling hear by the ready will - driving through space, nearly the next paragraph of thought, but to transgress all together is not very noble, or elderly. A coffee table intercedes for squirts of chocolate - making ready the stars, the bucks that will add up numerals, flavors of alternative space - a cadet that is too new for flavor, for flawed trials, standing erect, facing the sun. © 2015 Larry Ingram
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Welcome to the poetry web site of Larry Ingram. Larry is a poet, writer and observer of our culture. Categories
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