I love this dude. I remember borrowing this book out many a time from the library. I never finished reading half the poetry inside.
I love this book. It’s mean now.
I started reading some poetry inside a loud and I felt it.
Black mother fucking Jealousy. Damn it to hell. Why the fuck can’t write like that.
Words and images and feeling of a time. Of a moment.
I’ve had those moments. I would look up at the night sky and fall and winter months and breath in that chill cool air and stare at the epic star
Formations in the night sky. In a moment of span of time
I take it in. The moment. I enjoy it before I then have to turn my mind away and head off to work again. The cycle of living in to my adult years.