Monday, April 25, 2011

All afternoon you feel the weight of the things you've never done.

National Poetry Month is almost over and I'm not sure I know where I'm going. HOLD ON HOLD ON. I'm sorry for this: in poems I'm finding something that I can't find in my neighbor's shouts or in the hum of the city bus. David Shumate shows me things in these little chunks ("prose poems") and that's nice.

This is the poem for the day: Trains by David Shumate

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