A night when guitar strings
You wander away from
the sound of your own footsteps
No one makes toast like Californians
Your new raincoat is all you ever wanted
from a raincoat
in a drought.
Week of meals with Frank O’Hara:
January 25, 2014 at 1:44 am
Could you please elaborate the meaning of the write up? I’ll appreciate it!
January 25, 2014 at 11:28 pm
These are some strings of snippets of conversations I have heard. Strung like multi colored lights. Thank you so much for commenting and asking. I appreciate that you are reading my poetry!