DS (1947 / New Jersey / United States)

Poem For You

I am jealous of the sand

beneath you
around you
what you see

bright things erased lady
sparkling and traveling without luggage
liquidity
before X
you are tattooed on my back music
dies down

I too grew up in
the soft hands
of the gods

and a little donkey will lead them

Tears, tears, and I know
just what they mean
honeysuckles at night

I wrote this poem for you and haven't lost it

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Comments (1)

I too grew up in the '60s and attached your Idea of a University to my mind like a tattoo expropriated by your LifeMag cover in Grayson Kirk's chair as appropriate and hope you haven't lost it like the retrospectives have.