Thursday, June 9, 2011

poem || Keith Higginbotham

Hash Browns

I eat plates river flowing down road, around and

other memorabilia
from a full to the abc’s
of body trip to England slow drip of
be. Appeal your Unfeel
the touch with pewter Celtic converted into a of reality. The time to
celebrate appendage a passion keeping down a winding
own. the beautiful mind, taken long ago

miscellaneous yo-yo, and pencil light
into lives lost, blown glass pieces,
paintings I leave the resurrection,
one cowardly of the titanic
into lids,
photos, books, posters, and appliances,

an old lost
shopping for wooden TV cabinet,
a Ethereal shackles worn emptying nowhere and teacups and eyes
and listen. from friends and body of yodels. A
founder’s day The crust hardening language slurred in time as any
to around.
Unwound the corkscrew you can. The table eating.

colorful glass Christmas have to show start setting goals nothing,
But me.
jewelry of still unfulfilled.
Red or for it is The ceiling dawns. this semester: now's of scenery, soon local artists,

miscellaneous dishes,
utensils released.
The fresh bouquet health.
Locked away in still.
Finding nowhere or to be
boasting to call your sound of something warm
the way eating fortune cookies, for your self.
I'm fitness club.

This this ornaments inscribed soulless
and all I here and now.
The room's in a newer camera in the sinking handmade
wooden stool, it used to pastel plaids, the my throat;
Filling nowhere,
around the edges Building is being child,
bourbon's on the
fist-pumping the door—
I'm decadent. A finely grasshouse, an administrator brim with
an imaginary beach Lost & wandering of velvet, if as good a thought. The aged wine,
Rich and and accessories,

wooden boxes A residual heat white, I wander brave new nothing.

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