Micro Memoir #89

planet of the blind

I wanted a name so I went to the birch

Yes and I wept when Allen Ginsberg died

Of course I wanted the greenest of skins

& in the asylum’s garden

I read poems by Rimbaud


Many facts make for a life

& the capricious hours

Do their best

To turn us

From what matters

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

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