Is this you? Or you? Or even you?
How hot is the flame?
Does it burn?
Does it warm your chill?
What are you cookin?
How many others are gathered there?
I’m hot and burning down the town.
Come put me out.

I am only motivated by epic poems and midnight goblins.
I will gladly meet you where water goes under bridges.
I will spill my heart where the child rides the swan.
I will let the laurel leaves lap my wounds.

 

 

 

Here’s another “first and last” piece of missed connections poetry from the Medford-Ashland, Oregon feed. It’s exciting to go back through the two archive documents I have and re-discover pieces of writing that caught my eye many years ago. I still scan through all the Craigslist forums but the days of finding anything interesting that doesn’t get flagged and removed are long gone. 🙁