December 2010
(Here You Go, Travis... The Poem)
Little One
Forever submerged
In your transparent coffin
Where breath is dissolved
You flit and tip, restless.
Everything, grand or dull,
Is greeted with wide eyes.
The sounds of music
And the motion of fingers
Start your tiny heart throbbing.
One means entertainment,
The other, food;
Either way, company.
You’re often overcome with loneliness,
Competing languages forming mountains
Of...
