poems written on the fly

100 degrees

In art, bad poetry, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing on 28 April 2008 at 4:39 am

Everything thickens
feels sluggish

No interest in food
or motion

Scents not
smelled before
emanate from somewhere
behind something in the kitchen

It’s as if the sun
never goes down
never goes down
never goes down

Still it’s better
than being cold

(D. James)

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