An FB post on March 17th, 2021:
I was digging through boxes in my closet last weekend, looking for old tax receipts, and I found a bunch of notebooks full of poetry I wrote in college. They are all various shades of terrible (I was 19, adept only at drinking beer in the woods and chasing girls), but this one has always made me laugh:
sweet nothing,
you are moving.
in my eyes and in
my head
full of insects
buzzing
and
always,
always
running full-tilt
into a brick wall
built
by your mother.
kj 11/8/96
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