Saturday, December 13, 2008

December little poem

the office upstairs smells
like old coffee and paperwork

before long, then smells like
a-moment-ago opened-door
and like a new oomph,
as a life-force,
crossing the threshold,
the breezing coil folded up
blowing out papers stacked up for months
in an endless up-the-wind hunt

i smiled
the moment broke

(just the smell took place
the rest, just metaphors rapt in this old skull)
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