Taboo's Junk Trunk: A Storage Dump for Taboo's Random Literary and Cultural Blatherments
A Poem
Published on January 13, 2005 By TaBoo Tenente In Writing
You're the Writer

why does he have to die
you're the writer
she said

looking up from the dark
with a finger
scratching there
and here

and i say what
because i had forgotten
with the smell of apples

in her hair and all
through the room even
as the fan blew
rotating blasts of wind

rhythmically around
the night inside these walls
which forever

are forever


Copyright ©2004, ©2005, ©2006 Joshua Suchman. All rights reserved.
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