Thursday, November 25, 2010


"The first thrill of joy to my awakened soul let it come from his glance. And let my return to myself be immediate return to him."
-Rabindranath Tagore, Gitangali, Poem # 47, Scribner Publ., 1941

When I threw my father's wallet in the trash it
looked as useworn and natural
As the tongue of a grumpy tortoise.

I have looked at all the right monuments to perfection
And arrived poorly prepared with

Softest questions.

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