Formica, pt. 1:
---------------------------------
she runs her fingertip over bumpy black text
etched on the newsprint
shes touched
her cold cereal pops and simmers
outside, the birds are quiet
dads fingers are gnarled,
they seem lived in
and as black as hers with stains
coffee waits, but its too hot
she shifts her bottom in the chair
and shields her eyes from the sunrise
creeping in through the curtains
---------------------------------
she runs her fingertip over bumpy black text
etched on the newsprint
shes touched
her cold cereal pops and simmers
outside, the birds are quiet
dads fingers are gnarled,
they seem lived in
and as black as hers with stains
coffee waits, but its too hot
she shifts her bottom in the chair
and shields her eyes from the sunrise
creeping in through the curtains
"We're looking for Duran Duran..."
so am i. sigh...john
hey: have you read _the dictionary of imaginary places_? it is fantastic!