This from the Priests' Hole:
A poem of sorts is taking shape in my head. Maybe I'll figure out how to write it down and do so here. Until then, I will publish these two previously only narrowly-known gems, written over twenty years ago, for a bet with Mr Oetter the English teacher, which I won.
Greeting the kitchen wallpaper
I see you every day
But you never say hello.
Greeting the kitchen wallpaper II
I see you every day
But you never shake my hand.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Please remind me of the nature of your bet? I still remember how much hell we gave Mr. O. about our Odyssey assignment....
-your friend 'out West', who is thoroughly enjoying your blog
We were doing Richard Brautigan and it was all like, "The frying pan smells like fish farts" and I said that anybody could write that kind of crap, I didn't consider Brautigan a poet. I don't remember if we all wrote "Brautigan-esque" poems or it was just me, for the bet. But anyway, he admitted that mine were just as good.
Post a Comment