Twice a week I am going to throw down some reposts for nablopomo.
(originally posted on 2/3/09)
I would like to define it
When it comes creeping around
Give it a name
Or a reason
Explain it like a bad Rachael Ray recipe
Like the argument unresolved at midnight
Like the way carob tastes
But all I do is sling it over my shoulder and carry it around
Keenly aware of the way it feels
But unsure where it comes from
All I know is my mojo left town yesterday
Hitched a ride to some other lucky bastards house
Where he floats around the room telling stories
And making them all laugh
Heads thrown back
Where he takes the lady into a back bedroom and shows her
Most of Copernicus's truth
And then later makes art
Out of nothing at all
4 comments:
oh Amy. Love.
wow. Billy Collins ish. wow.
i know what you mean.... the way carob tastes....
I wonder where my mojo is. I hope it's having fun and comes back to me someday.
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