shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Keith Polette

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Hope Floats

The last time I saw hope, it was thumbing a ride north to Albuquerque, leaving me with a stack of overdue bills and unanswered letters. Doves and other feathered things have settled in the surrounding trees, preening themselves and stretching their wings in anticipation of a wind-rushed entrance.

end of spring . . .
the river streaming
from the eyes of fish

And on this long dog day of summer, there is only the fist of the sun beating down so hard that time itself has gone belly up like koi fish in rancid water.

doctor's office
each of us waiting
for Godot