Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Bare bones in colloquialisms,

these poems.

They bound in and out like
the sounds of songs in passing cars
harsh and snapping and then gone.

There are no stories here,
only epitaphs.

1 comment:

KoolThing said...

Austin you haven't added much to your blog since i last saw it!! I love this poem.
xo.

I've made a blog now, talks about music and the like ;p

how is the music going.