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May 22 Ghost Soup KitchenNothing to report today. Everything is in transition, even the weather. Unable to provide any home cooked tidbits I'll just open a can of someone else's soup and serve it in a paper cup with a plastic spoon. Want some music with it?
Real Estate
by
Richard Brautigan
I have emotions
that are like newspapers that
read themselves.
I go for days at a time
trapped in the want ads.
I feel as if I am an ad
for the sale of a haunted house:
18 rooms
$37,000
I'm yours
Ghosts and all.
______________________
from June 30th, June 30th
p. 43
c 1977 by Richard Brautigan
May 12 101st AttemptI've written 75-100 really bad poems -
far too many
too long
with forced titles
and too many words.
Everybody gets a second chance.
This poem has a one-word title:
"You"
and no words...
blanks only
for you to fill in
and for me
to read.
You came here to get something?
I came here expecting you to give something.
Life is a bitch, isn't it?
We both end up asking, "what does this all mean?"
and promising each other that
if we figure it out
we'll publish it,
in a public Space
so all will know.
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