Tag: Helios

  • On Urges

    When the urge to write slows to a trickle
    and the need to talk seems superfluous
    the funnel of listen fills with earwax
    summer’s vase stuck with dry flies
    and all the flowers fall drooped
    one awakes yet again and gets up
    aroused by the unsurpassable sun
    spilling coffee on the backs of its studs.