In the summer of 2005 I'd just come off of eight straight years in the service industry. I was tired, I hurt everywhere, and my writing had turned bitter and cynical, like me. Too much time watching people misbehave and fade away. All the poems for what would become my book Flesh Wounds were finished, and I just wanted to try something new. So, I took that summer off, sat on the porch, went to the park, down by the river, and just wrote poems with minimal to no apparent meaning. These were the first poems from my book Submerged Structure. Jenny saw this one last night and decided it went with her Tiny Drawing. I think she's right.
More Tiny Drawing Poems
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