i may be these broken
parts on the floor
watching steam rise
as a radio is
sounding thru-out the kitchen
with jazz and ads.
louis armstrong
is my close-knit
companion with
the trumpet, the band.
silence from the cat,
hum from the patchwork streets,
this is most likely
waking up in Southeast.
here is chemistry:
water steamed,
a rich coffee aroma;
a cracked door cold;
oatmeal, raisins,
and brown sugar, hot.
i am making this easy, poignant,
simple, needed, necessary
amalgamation.
still sitting lazy style,
legs in a pile,
on the hard
wooden floor,
recounting when to
pour it all together
to that sound,
to that feel.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Image may be NSFW.Clik here to view.
