sometimes the voices get faraway
when I sit in the sandbox and play.
I don’t know why I pushed my trucks
around, I did it anyway.
Archive for January 14, 1992
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sometimes the voices get faraway
when I sit in the sandbox and play.
I don’t know why I pushed my trucks
around, I did it anyway.
I was born
playing racquetball
against a page like this.
sometimes this was all
I had to do
to keep myself warm
in the nighttime of the fall,
in the yonder of the blue
when there wasn’t you
to kiss.