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

Published by mauriconnors

Writing about dance. Dancing about writing. Dancing about dancing.

2 thoughts on “Poems from New York, #19

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