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Monday, October 23, 2006

Writer's Diary #8: Pie

It's late, I can't sleep, and other than lambasting myself for things that should have been done, I'm haunted by late-night poems (which in the morning are about as coherent as stoner poems). Enjoy.

Pie

At the edge of the night
crusts turn crispy
(by a sun)
and the sky, star-poked
for ventilation,
holds what I assume to be
apples.

2 comments:

Qurios said...

I don't get it, but it did make me chuckle.

~2q

John Mutford said...

Yeah, it wasn't as clear for me the next morning either. I must have been hungry.

Apples was a throwback to Genesis though, I remember that much.