04 February 2011

Tilt

Tilt 2/4

When I was young I stood on rocky flats tilting windmills of poetry
Those Ginsbergs and Pounds that dot the countryside
Now I ride mules and kick rocks into the words I’ve wrought before
These are melting paintings are Icarus wings are fires in warehouses
I want my own damn windmill
I will deforest libraries before the night is through