Friday, April 1, 2011

Where the strangers Go.

There’s a stain on my glasses
I thought there could be an audience
But God holds on the line.. He said, Girl it’s his ship this time.

There’s a flurry in my belly
And glass instead of wine.
So tell me, What are we fishin for this time.

As the crazy runs out the door
Were left alone once more.
And I know the decision is clear

God holds - he  hands me a line
And I write it down- one last time.
"There isn’t a man that belongs to you with a double mind. "
So I follow the leader that is left

Write one last poem without regret
I hear the frogs
So Lonely in here
And the Dr. says,
What kind of man was that.