Thursday, June 19, 2008


Never though of myself as a writer, especially not a writer of poems, but I found quite a few while going through some of my files today. Here's one in honor of summer in the South...let me know what you think.


Oh god, that’s good
Ankle, ankle, top of foot
And that big one on the back of my right knee
Feels so good

But it won’t later
When clear ooze comes
Where blood later will

They do not stop
And they get my neck
An unexpected elbow

As I rub and scratch and try
Not to scratch
Like everyone told me

He buzzes around my ear
My lips
And crawls up my pants

I give in
With no repellant in sight

Oh, Dale and I are writing a screenplay this summer. Ask me how it's going later.