You Only Write Once Scholarship Slam 2013
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Mine eyes have seen the coming the comming of many things, But as things pass by my eyes they become many goings. My feet know many back allies that have kept me off my trail.
Her fingers are feathers, Lithe and delicate As they hover over the brushstrokes of Monet, Drawn to pigment like a moth to the flame. His eyes are the ravenous mouths of predators
The home of a traveler Is not really a home, But more of a way of life. The home can be furnished nicely With a chipper mood and a broad smile. The furniture is all in place