Posted by writergrll on December 22nd, 2005 under Poetry
Whenever you get there, she sits on her bench
surrounded by a shopping cart and black garbage bag
filled with acorns, eucalyptus leaves, her flesh-colored bandages—
whatever she finds gets stuffed into a hotch-potch pot,
water bottles thrown at her feet after a three-mile run—
she always dyes her hair red and bleaches her teeth in the sun
Posted by profr on December 7th, 2005 under Love
Posted by christian on December 7th, 2005 under Other
Posted by mikee on December 7th, 2005 under Comedy
Posted by song on December 7th, 2005 under Nature
Posted by sbarker on December 7th, 2005 under Crime
Posted by erma on December 7th, 2005 under Love
Posted by quetzalin on December 7th, 2005 under Scary
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Posted by shambo on December 6th, 2005 under Fantasy
Posted by shambo on December 5th, 2005 under Historical
