Two Poems


I think about you and what the cowboys would think

when they thought about you.

They would only think about you if I asked them what they

thought about you.

What I am saying is I want to go back and ask them what they

think. What they think about you.

They say they travel on dangerous roads. Through lawless plains

filled with thieves. To bring these voices to you.


When the cork is old it can plop right down

into the bottle. There is a secret joy in knowing

that things are not going to be the way you

thought they might be

If you listen carefully you can hear

a small plop. And then you hear a voice:


but never

oh no!

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