Poems from New York, #19

Pretty much

A journal is only useful to the one using it

When they’re using it

Afterwards

we call it special

keep it on shelves in boxes and museums

where it collects dust and is as dead

as something that breathes no more

2 thoughts on “Poems from New York, #19”

lmconnors says:

January 6, 2017 at 5:04 am

I like this one, how it feels. But I do reread mine sometimes.

Reply
1. mauriconnors says:
  
  January 6, 2017 at 4:40 pm
  
  Well. I agree with that too. But this came to me like this, so I wrote it like this.
  
  Reply

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