look love
even old trees
still bloom anew
while your name
crumbles against
muted bark
and a drying
useless sun
*
you always hated
my poetry
but i always hated
you
for you made me
write this badly
about this bad
always
*
leave something that
will leave you
one seed
two dirty napkins
three pages of an unread book
four girls who remember your name
five dog collars that have worn from drool
whatever and enough
right now
by beginning today
on the day that isn’t much
but that is the only hope
for tomorrow
before it leaves
on a sixth thing
that couldn’t even make
one weak
with the daze of what
was left
Mizpellt wurdz 
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