Ok, the dirt

[the mingo]

Ok, the dirt is rambunctious, sure,
may I suggest you dine from my basket
while I knit icicles ?

every poem a decay unit
broken & bright all at once
erratic & wounded -

things do not depend on what we have done
and that is hilarious

[Ann Bingham]

I see ants and a picnic blanket. I feel the beat of a cold heart. I see lost and tattered love poems that once brought much happiness but then broke the heart of the one they were to. The last two lines. . .hummmmm. . .accusations unwarranted but believed just the same. But that is just my take. Interesting read.

[the mingo]

Thx, Ann - appreciate it - glad you got out of it what you did - it's just a construct of chance operations for me, a submarine of sorts in attempt of reaching or creating a bridge where things can cross -

[saw]

superb !...just subtle enough ( unlike my default pounding of the head)....this is poetry

[the mingo]

( unlike my default pounding of the head). - cracked me up -thx, saw

[mnaz]

Here's to decay!

[WIREMAN]

....I just take it in and hope to cross that bridge

[the mingo]

Here's to decay!

Thx mnaz - appreciate the read

[the mingo]

....I just take it in and hope to cross that bridge

Thx Wireman - appreciate it