Came home and the windows were smashed
The place empty, all my belongings taken
And then you walked in next
And I remembered:
I still had everything
Tag Archives: creative
Totem
My spiritual animal
Must be the hawk
Every time I leave your hand
I come right back
My Inspiration
It’s leaving me
Or already left
Little by little
And day by day
Words no longer come
One after another
Only form in scattered staccatos
All appears lost, m i s p l a c e d,
reversed, underdeveloped:
.sentence proper a write to how remember even can’t I, Now
Benjamin Grossman 