A compiled heap of my poetry, memoirs and personal insights of past and present.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Garbage Can Head
My thoughts sit like a bowl of soup. I stare at the bowl. Soupy brown with drippy okra. I write my thoughts down. Thoughts of nothingness. So I toss them in the garbage can of my head. It feels like Jambalaya in my soul. That's all I have to say about that today.
(This makes no sense. I should have drawn a bowl of soup, but that would be boring and a garbage can head is much more enjoyable.)