Poems from CH

CH's picture
Everyday must be its own
We aren't apes, swinging with the same brutish intent of beasts   Resolved to crush the Unfortunate Bugs beneath their callous fingers...
Do not forget, Good memories should be remembered.   But I fear them shying away from faded happiness worn and torn around the edges too...
What's left of it? Of everything said, done, thought, believed--   There are names, Predating even my earliest discoveries Pre-existing in...
But her disappointed breath Wraps around me Vice-like, a cold blanket Contrary Always contradictory, to the Hot heat of the sticky summer...
There is a crack in the car that no one notices,   I tape the shreds together but the oil slips.   There is a hole in the hull from which...

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