one for the offing

spoke the poet
is something
that will make
a sea
of me
something so large it is small…
or some bullshit like that.

Where has love gone?
is it accessible anymore, or only ironic?
she’s engaged
and he’s engaged
and the world is turning
and facebook is telling us how
everyone is
doing, how love is
glenn beck has a new book out
that combines flat tax with absolutely
no premarital sex
and you wonder why so many
people in the world are lonely.

spoke the poet
is full of shit
and hollywood endings
something that will
a tree
of me,
something without roots.

What has happened to love?

I can’t seem to find it
or hold it up to the light,
or hold it at all,
it is slippery
and nothing that I know

spoke the poet
is the only thing extinct
in this world
a priest
of me,
holding only my crucifix in moonlight.

Kevin Crispin
What do you think is up to my right in the picture? A cob web? Probably a cob web. Or maybe it's my Beatles records on top of my air conditioner. It's certainly not fresh, new wainscoting.

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